


Mind Spectre

by Cesela



Category: Magic Kaito, 名探偵コナン | Detective Conan | Case Closed
Genre: Angst and Feels, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Explosions, Heist, Hospitals, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Magic, Telepathy
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-07-27
Updated: 2018-02-26
Packaged: 2018-12-07 17:06:39
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 53,800
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11628006
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cesela/pseuds/Cesela
Summary: Shinichi is a telepath seeking revenge after Ran lands in a coma. The culprit is the one man whose mind he cannot read: Kaitou KID. And Kaito is struggling with the guilt in the aftermath and the moral and ethical implications of his choices of picking up his father’s mantle. However, things don’t always tend to be what they seem. Eventually kaishin, Kaito x Shinichi / Shinichi x Kaito.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I started writing this story over half a year ago, but life and lethargy blocked the time and motivation to put words on paper. This story is for Addy01, who picked two plots from a list of story ideas I had written. I couldn’t have written this story without the support and patience from my friends (patience needed as I tend to talk too much about boring subjects and they are saints for bearing with me). Unlike my previous long-stories, this one is not completed, so far 8 chapters are finished and will be published once they are done being betaed.
> 
> Special thanks for Addy01 for betaing, Johnny for always listening, Zaki for being my muse and helping me whenever I’m stuck (and for not allowing me to blow things up without hours of research and discussions), and Crie, Duv and Lulu for helping to come up with a suitable title. Well, mostly Crie.
> 
> Warning for; mild mature content
> 
> Wordcount: 7,4K
> 
> Published 27.07.2017

Ever since Shinichi was little, everyone around him had speculated whether he could read their minds.

It had started when his kindergarten teacher, who was suffering from a serious bout of alcoholism at the time, had been cleaning up the mess left behind by two of her charges’ impulsive food fight. She had let out a deep sigh as she glanced in the direction of her private office with a wistful expression.  Suddenly, five-year-old Kudou Shinichi had yanked her sleeve.

“You really should not be drinking while working,” the boy had said sternly. Her heart leapt to her throat and palpitated in horror. No one had known of her little addiction, not her colleagues, her family, not even her husband. So how had the boy known this fact?

She promptly stopped drinking from that day forth.

That would not be the last time Shinichi had displayed signs that he knew what people were thinking, whether they were lying or what they were feeling. Rumours started to spread, and no one did anything to hinder them. It really did help the boy when he stumbled over dead bodies and was allowed to join the investigations. His swift and accurate deliveries only fuelled the rumours of him being a telepath.

To be honest, Shinichi was not entirely sure if he could actually read minds. Either he could, or he was suffering from auditory hallucinations caused by having a highly developed and astute observation skills from an early age, and the information he unconsciously picked up was supplied in a way only he could comprehend – or he was crazy. His many shrinks had not been able to come to a conclusion on that topic.

Shinichi did not particularly find his abilities odd or special – he had always been able to pick up what other people were thinking. He imagined it to be no different than someone who was born with synaesthesia or perhaps colour blindness for that matter. To him, it was actually difficult to comprehend how other people _could not_ see what he could.

The detective let his eyes wander across the alley. Only the blinking street-lights at the end of the alley barely illuminated the area. A yellow and black police-tape divided the curious bystanders from the police and forensics scouring over the dead body. The deceased was a woman in her late thirties, with short, brown hair. Her modest make-up had long since been ruined – most likely from the drizzling rain that had not stopped once since yesterday morning. Hopefully the rain had not washed away any crucial DNA evidence.

“Kudou-kun?”

Shinichi turned around to glance at Takagi. The inspector wore a thick, blue raincoat, with a yellow waterproof cap that cut through the darkness with its brightness. His shoulders were slightly tensed, and his lips quirked downwards in an expression that clearly read: ’ _I just want all of this to be over so I can change into dry clothing –_

Shinichi full-heartedly agreed with that statement, and had parted his lips to comment on it, only to freeze and lowered his eyes as Takagi’s thoughts started to circle around to an image of Sato and him on a rug in front of the fire place. The consultant did not even flush – long since used to people with their inappropriate thoughts.

“You might want to ask the woman in question out _before_ you start dreaming about domestic dates at a cabin, Takagi- _Keiji_ ,” Shinichi commented drily, and perhaps a little unkindly as Takagi blushed red with clear panic flashing in his eyes. The bad weather had been messing with everyone’s mood.

“I – sorry – I don’t – I didn’t –“ the inspector stuttered out incomprehensible, all colour draining from his face as he cast nervous glances above his shoulder. “Sorry – I – that is – I don’t – you –,” he continued, not looking as though he would stop being unintelligible for a while longer.

Shinichi took pity on him, and reached out to pat his shoulder with a quick, calming gesture. “It’s not my concern what happens behind the curtains of a police investigation. Your secret is safe with me. It’s not my place to get involved with your love life. Now, what can I do for you?”

The investigator stared at him for a few, silent moments. The tight lines around his eyes subsided in relief, his eyes conveying: ‘ _Kudou-kun is a really kind person, thank god he doesn’t use his abilities for mischief or law breaking. I need to be more careful with my thoughts around him, or he could accidentally pick up something he shouldn’t_.’

Shinichi pretended he did not read that, and just kept a bland smile curling on his lips as he patiently waited for Takagi’s reply.

“You – erh –,“ Takagi cleared his throat and smoothed his expression as he turned back to his role as an officer of the law to hide his unease. “Have you picked up anything from the crowd yet? Anything in regards to the murder?”

Looking away from him, the consultant let his eyes roam across the civilians crowding the police tape. The thing about his mind reading ability, he could only pick out the surface thoughts from people’s body language. Sometimes they came in the form of vivid images, sometimes thoughts, other times just as a general emotion. Most of the time, however, he needed to look at the person in order to read them.

“I need a ten-thousand yen-note,” he responded after a short moment of thought.

Although Takagi looked confused at the request, he did not hesitate as he fished out his wallet from his pocket. A second later, he handed Shinichi the money.

Shinichi accepted it with a short, gratuitous smile, before he turned and walked towards the crowd of onlookers behind the police tape. He propped the collar of the raincoat he was wearing up to protect against the cold drizzle. “Excuse me, I have a 10,000 yen here” He waved the bill in the air, showing it to the messes. “Whoever has any information regarding the murder, please come forward to accept this reward.”

Unsurprisingly, almost everyone raised their hands. Behind him, he could hear Takagi choke in surprise. He did not need to see the officer’s face to know exactly what the man was thinking, and Shinichi suppressed the urge to curl his lips in amusement. He kept his bland and polite smile as his eyes searched the crowd for any shred of a clue for him to latch on.

There was a couple waving their hands who glanced at each other with an excited anticipated:  ‘ _money for our ‘new couch fund!’’_. A teen around fifteen or sixteen, with dark eyeliner circling his eyes and a red and blue mohawk, wore a quirk of his lips that clearly indicated his resolve to buy drugs with the cash – and Shinichi’s nose crunched upwards in disgust, making a mental note to do something about that issue later. An elderly man looked anxious as he stretched his hand out the highest. There was a wistful quiver around his mouth – he knew he had nothing to say, but he could really need the money to buy his grandson a proper birthday present. He could not afford much with the pitiful pension he had been robbed to accept by greedy CO’s when he lost his job at a factory.

Shinichi’s heart trembled for a moment as the old man’s thoughts leached into his mind, and he had to swallow the anger that bubbled in his chest in response. Some people would do anything just to earn some extra money – even robbing the already poor. Without glancing at Takagi, he waved the man forward.

The old man froze for a second, his eyes hazed with indecision, suddenly feeling guilty, the wistful yearning for the cash disappeared from his face as reality set in. He propped the tip of his flat cap down into his face, before ducking under the tape. He wobbled forward – likely that he had damaged his foot years ago as the limp was not recent. He removed his hat and fumbled with it as he lowered his gaze in shame. “Apologize. I don’t actually have any information. I’ll take any fines for obstructing the police without complaint.”

Takagi looked as though he did not know what to do, as he glanced between the consultant and the old man. The detective’s eyes flashed for a moment in indecision – wondering if Shinichi was up to something, or if the telepath had made a mistake.

Shinichi ignored the confused expression on Takagi’s face as he grabbed the old man’s hand and turned the palm up. “I’m well aware of that fact.” With a sympathetic expression and soft-spoken words, he placed the 10,000-yen bill in the palm and curled the pensioner’s fingers around it – shock and surprise flickered across his face as he stared at the consultant. “Buy your grandson those car toys he has always wanted.”

Shinichi stepped back and lean towards Takagi and spoke with a low voice. “You see the man with the red cap in the crowd? Mid-twenties, black hair, a mole on his chin? He knows something about the murder.”

The inspector glanced in the direction of the person Shinichi described automatically, his mouth popped open in surprise and he looked to have been rooted to his spot.

With a sigh, the consultant rubbed his nose as he explained. “That young man was one of the few who did not try to claim the reward – very few would decline an opportunity to earn 10,000 yen. When I called the old man over, he was the only one who relaxed visibly.”

Takagi did not need any more explanations, as his lips narrowed and he strolled towards the man. “You there, I need to speak with you –“ the order was barely voiced, before the suspect flinched backwards and started to flee. The officer followed immediately – having anticipated his next movement from the tension of his legs.

In the meantime, the pensioner grabbed Shinichi’s arm. “I really can’t take this money –“

“Keep it,” the detective responded without glancing in the old man’s direction, his gaze flued to the figures of several officers chasing after the suspect – the man was surprisingly fast. However the chase came to an abrupt stop as Chiba intercepted the fleeing young man. The suspect, who had been looking behind him and not kept an eye on what was in the front, went tumbling into the junior inspector. The two fell into a heap across the concrete.

“No, really. I can’t –“

With a sigh, Shinichi turned to face the old man with a kind smile. “Honestly, you earned it. You did help with the investigation. So as promised, that’s your reward.”

He did not look appeased, but he dropped his hand and gave a hesitant nod and a grateful smile. “Thank you.”

Shinichi smiled as he watched the retiree returned back behind the police tape. Sometimes he loathed his abilities – everything he saw, read and understood from reading minds was a curse more than anything. It could be such an oppressive thing at times, showing him both the cruellest and saddest part of humanity. He wished he could do more to help the grandfather who only wanted to make his grandson happy.

Sometimes, he really hated all of this.

Suddenly, he felt a shiver run down his spine, and for a moment everything froze as his breath hitched in his throat. He could feel the cold, hard gaze of someone spying on him, and the feeling only lasted for a mere moment as he turned around to try to spot the person from the crowd, however the mass of people made it impossible for him to distinguish anyone. He was left feeling colder than before, wondering if his mind was playing tricks on him.

…

“No.”

There was nothing but the sound of stirring of porcelain cups filling the silence of the room. The sun filtered into the room through the half-open window, and the soft breeze made the ivory curtains flutter softly in the wind. There was a soft electric hum from the lamp overhead.

Sonoko frowned from the yellow armchair she was sitting in. Her legs were crossed, and she wore a simple yet elegant blue dress that did not even cover her kneecaps. She pursed her lips as she scowled at the detective sitting in the opposite chair – exact in every way except that this one was in a pale blue colour. “I haven’t asked you anything yet.”

“You didn’t have to,” Shinichi did not miss a beat as he responded, only picking up his tea and took a sip of the warm, bitter, herbal liquid. There was, honestly, only one reason why Sonoko would ever show up on his doorstep, uninvited.

Ran had not met his gaze since she stepped into the house, and her hands fluttered in nervousness and hesitation. Every few minutes her eyes would dart in the direction of the heiress, and her lips twitched downwards in clear distress. She definitely did not want to be here.

“I’ll pay you –“ Sonoko tried again.

His nose cringed up in displeasure, and he put the cup back on the table. “Those rates that I’m sure you’re willing to part are only for the pompous gentry who thinks it’s posh and the in-thing to hire a telepath to fix their problems. Just so that they can brag about their ties to supernatural forces. I don’t fancy taking those jobs, and my contract clearly states I can choose my clients,” he said through clenched teeth, his hackles rising as he went on the defensive. He would never accept money from any of his friends, and the fact that Sonoko was trying to buy his services gave him an ashy taste in his mouth.

“Sonoko,” Ran finally spoke, and she shifted position in her chair. He could clearly read Ran’s unease, and there was a clear quiver over her eyelids that read something akin to: ‘ _I’m sorry, Shinichi. I know you are not comfortable with this, but you know how stubborn Sonoko becomes once she gets an idea in her head_.

The detective lowered his eyes for a moment, his heart fluttering in his chest. Out of everyone he knew, Ran was the only one who never minded the fact he always knew what was on her mind. He could read her easier than anyone – it had been a major help in the past. He had been able to save her life a few times because of it.

He did not blame her for today’s predicament; he knew Sonoko far too well.

“I don’t know why he won’t help,” the heiress spoke icily through clenched teeth, clearly unhappy and disappointed by the outcome. “It’s an easy task. Put him in a room, and then just pick KID-sama from the crowd. A win – win situation.”

Shinichi suppressed the urge to purse his lips in displeasure at the fact that Sonoko spoke as though he was not in the room. From the tone of voice, he could tell the two girls had had this discussion before – they all had had the exact same conversation every time a new heist-note was delivered to the police.

He would dutifully crack the riddle or code when requested, but had personally only been to three heists since Kaitou KID, the elusive phantom thief, started pilfering jewels two years ago.

Personally, he had no interest in thieves. Shinichi was a homicide detective, and he had no desire to chase after an adrenaline-seeking junkie of a thief who always returned what he stole. Either Kaitou KID was searching for something important, or he was just another fool looking for an adventure that would sooner or later land him in jail.

However, there was another reason for his reluctance in joining the heists other than his disinterest. He could not read Kaitou KID’s intentions, or thoughts or feelings – his mind was completely closed off to the detective, something which had never happened to him before. The first few times it happened, Shinichi thought that it had been a fluke – maybe the thief just did not have a thought going through his mind the moment Shinichi tried to read his mind? – but after the third heist, he had reluctantly admitted to himself that he could not pick up anything from the phantom thief.

It was _unnerving_.

And it had slightly freaked him out – the possibility of making a mistake because he had not been able to rely on his abilities to confirm his deductions. Thankfully, so far he had not made any mistakes, he had still been able to pick up the clues to intercept the moonlight magician, but the thief’s thoughts were impossible to read – when Shinichi had actively tried to. Usually, he hardly ever needed to make an effort, but in this instance it was no use even when he tried.

And the third reason – or at least the one he told himself was the most important part, and the only one he ever told anyone inquiring when approached– was the fact his gift was not useful in a crowded area. There are far too many minds and faces to read; far too much information to soak up. It made it difficult to get a good read on anyone, let alone pinpointing the origin of the thought. So he tried to stay away from such occurrences in case he made a mistake. As a detective, he could not afford to make errors – and he had no intention of framing the wrong person. It would ruin his reputation.

“Just drop it, Sonoko. I told you Shinichi doesn’t like crowded places,” Ran spoke with a soft, yet stern tone, that left the heiress to do nothing but purse her lips in displeasure.

_‘It was worth a shot. But I don’t get it why he has to be so difficult. Telepathy is wasted on such a stick in the mud. I know what I’d do with such an ability –_ ’

“It would be a horrifying sight, Sonoko,” Shinichi replied drily, picking up his cup again and feeling the warmth of the cup scorching his fingertips in a familiar comfort. “Perish the thought.”

Sonoko flushed darkly as she realized he had read her mind, and her eyelids batted a few times in embarrassment, and mumbled something incoherent into her cup.

Ran flashed Shinichi an apologetic smile.

…

The sound of chanting filled his ears even from the balcony he was crouching on. He could practically feel the life and energy of the city below, and it filled him with anticipation and giddiness. Sometimes, it felt as though half the reason he did this was purely for his audience.

Kuroba Kaito loved the freedom of being the infamous jewel thief _Kaitou KID._ He loved the riddles, the chase, playing with the police and making Hakuba Saguru pull his hair in frustration.

He pulled out a pair of binoculars, aiming it at the building in front of him, where the target of today’s heists was located at.  He spied into the fourth floor, where he spotted the restless figures of Nakamori Ginzo and the members of the KID Task Force moving around. Hakuba was nowhere to be seen, though Kaito knew that the English detective would be in there somewhere.

He glanced at his wristwatch, there was only twenty minutes left till the heist was due to start. “Jii-chan, is the window still clear?” He held his breath as he waited for an answer from the elderly magician. The point of entry was the third window on the fourth floor, where he could easy access the necklace, which was placed on a pedestal situated right beside that window.

“ _Negative_ ,” Jii-chan’s voice crackled through the earpiece he was wearing, “ _Hakuba-san is currently inspecting the fake latches we implanted.”_ There was a second of silence. Kaito suspected the assistant moved away in order to not draw any attention to himself from the detective. “ _I recommend switching to plan B,_ Botchama _.”_

Kaito automatically gave a short nod in response even though Jii-chan could not see him, not bothering to vocalizing his agreement. He knew that there was always a possibility that any part of his plans could be hindered and discovered – Hakuba was a worthy, albeit tedious, adversary. He had, however, never been close to capturing _Kaitou KID_. The last person closest to accomplishing that feat was when another teen detective who had been on his case, over a year ago. Kaito had, unfortunately, never caught his name, and Hakuba had been less than willing to share that little bit of information.

Kaito’s mind flashed back to the memory of sharp, intelligent eyes that had seemed to be able to look straight through him, right after the detective shot at him from above, half hanging out of a helicopter at the clock-tower heist.

Now, _that_ had been a thrilling and exhilarating heist.

“Move into the new position and make sure Hakuba is occupied at the west-entry. We are t-minus seventeen minutes.” He put the binoculars back into his pocket and turned back into the room behind him. He was cutting it short on time, but arriving a few seconds later than scheduled would aggravate the British detective, and that was always a plus. Kaito sometimes suspected he existed simply to get on Hakuba’s nerve – the Half-Brit certainly had firm opinions on the subject.

The magician picked up a bag that was sitting on the table in the sparsely furnished room: it was filled with spare clothing, a few masks, gas bombs, an extra pair of grappling hook. Even if he could not use the window as entry point, he could use it as a possible exist. It all depended on the position of the police and Hakuba once the action started.

“ _Kaito-botchama_.”

Kaito froze as Jii-chan’s voice filled his ears once more. There was a hint of concern in his voice that had his shoulders tensing in anticipation or dread – Kaito could not tell which, however.

“ _The alarm previously connected to the north-entry back door has been cut. We might –“_ the elderly magician’s swallowed audibly, a sound that created static through the radio-piece. _“We might have company.”_

Kaito clenched his teeth at that piece of information, his mind racing with the possibilities of what the discovery could mean for them. If it was Snake or anyone of his associates, it could be dangerous for him to venture into the crowded museum. Surely the assassins were not bold enough to attack him in the middle of a crowded area? Should he postpone the heist just to make sure no one would be caught in the crossfire?

He glanced at his clock, they only had fifteen minutes left. There was no time to reconsider his plans, not unless he decided to wing it. “We can’t cancel the heist, it would draw unwanted attention. I saw we go ahead as planned, but I’ll just be in and out as fast as I can.”

He felt, more than heard, Jii-chan’s wish to object to the idea. However, he knew his assistant would follow his plan without complaint.

“Keep an eye out and report any suspicious behaviour immediately. Get into position,” he did not bother ending the call. He did not have time, seeing as he was already behind schedule. He dropped his jacket and picked up a light bullet vest he had stashed in the bag – better safe than sorry if he was going up against Snake and the Syndicate. Staying alive was worth the loss of flexibility wearing the vest would bring.

Grabbing what he dared to carry, he left the room – it would remain unoccupied by the owners for another few days, plenty of time for him to come back and comb through the room for any evidence he might have accidentally left behind. However, just in case, he had stashed the bag in the corner wardrobe, far away from immediate scrutiny.

He had reached the seventh floor of the building, when he felt his mobile phone buzzing. Hesitating, he glanced at the screen, and swallowed once he noticed Aoko’s name. She would either be worried or angry if he did not answer it. With a defeated sight, he accepted the call.

“What do you want, _Ahoko_. I’m busy.”

As expected, there was a short, displeased noise coming from the receiving end as his childhood friend bristled in vexation. “ _This is what I get for being worried and checking in on you when you are sick.”_

He had not bat an eye when he told her that easy lie hours earlier when she came around to invite him to go to the museum with her. He hated lying to her, but it was necessary and for the greater good. He would not risk getting her into any sort of danger, especially not by being too close to him. “Why don’t you just give up on this _Kaitou KID_ nonsense and go home, Aoko,” he masked the concern in his voice – if Snake was really here today, he did not want her anywhere near the heist. He knew, however, that it was a lost cause.

“ _Like hell I will. I’m here to support my dad and Hakuba-kun. I want to personally see with my own eyes Kaitou KID being apprehended. I have a good feeling about today.”_

“As if,” Kaito responded dutifully to fit into his persona as a KID-supporter. “KID-sama will never be caught!” He started moving forwards to a rope he had prepared earlier in the day, hoping Aoko would end the call soon.

She made another unhappy noise, but did not push the subject, seeing as it was a familiar dance of disagreement between them. “ _I was at your place earlier before I left, but no one answered the door. Did you see the pot with home-made soup I dropped off on your porch?”_

Kaito’s heart both quivered in gratitude and in pain at her words – he felt guilty for always lying to her when she was always so kind to him. He lowered his eyes, despite not having anyone scrutinizing his expression. If anyone saw him right now, he was unsure what would be revealed in his expression. “No, I’ll –“ he swallowed thickly. “I’ll get it right now. Thanks Aoko, but you really shouldn’t worry so much –“

“Bakaito,” she cut him off sharply, but her voice turned softer as she continued to speak. _“I always worry about you, alone in that big house, no social or survivability skills. You’d be lost without me, and you know it.”_

The magician had climbed up on the railing of the balcony as she spoke, and was now leaning down to hook his belt to the harness on the rope that stretched between the two buildings.  He curled his lips again, and he felt warmth spread through his chest at her both worried and teasing tone of voice. Aoko never changed, and he would not have her any other way.

“Agreed, so you better not go anywhere.”

His affirmation was met with a stunned silence – she had clearly expected a childish rebuke. His eyes darted down the watch on his wrist, he had only eight minutes left. “I have to go Aoko, my phone is running out of batteries, but I’ll call you later once I’ve charged it, yeah?”

_“You better,”_ she groused out in response, however there was a tone of affection in her voice as clear as day. _“Feel better, Kaito.”_

He ended the call with a promise and switch it off immediately – he could not afford anyone trying to contact him mid-heist. Once that was done, he immediately jumped from the railing. For a second, he was in free-fall before the cable went taut and caught his weight. He bounced up and down a few times as gravity tried to force him downwards, but the rope held him in place. After double checking the straps, he activated the button that would spurn him forward towards the other building.

Meters underneath him, he could hear the crowd again. This time, they were chanting his name, and he felt a satisfied smile curling on his lips. If anyone looked up, no one would notice the black figure sailing through the air. The adjacent building was coming up fast, and he kicked his feet forwards in order to brace the impact of the wall. He hit the concrete structure harder than intended – even with the mechanism slowing down his speed in the last few meters – and for a moment he lost his breath as he dangled several storeys from the ground.

Kaito shook it off quickly however, and he spared no time unbuckling the harness and dropped to the balcony below. He grabbed the end of the rope and started to pull it towards him quickly. With a well-placed shot from his card gun, the end of the rope attached to the apartment-building he had swung from unveiled and would have fallen to the ground had Kaito not already dragged most of it onto the balcony. He quickly finished the task and stashed the rope behind a pot of flowers.

The thief checked the time again, there was only five minutes left – he was really cutting it close, but he should get there on time. With that in mind, he stepped through the door that he had picked hours early. He made way to the stairs on his left after checking the corridor for any sign of life. He was in luck: it was empty. Most guards usually gave up looking for his entry at this point in the heist and would simply wait to catch him in the jewel room.

Kaito did not let his eyes settle on the priceless and centuries-old paintings covering the walls as he passed them. The stilled coldness of the room tasted like a mixture of old parchment and chemicals from cleaning equipment. It was colder inside the building than it was outside – it was necessary to keep the temperature between fifteen and seventeen degrees Celsius for better reservation of the paintings.

It also had the added bonus of discouraging anyone from smoking –  if anyone had been stupid enough to be inclined to do so in a museum.

Reaching the fifth floor, he excited the stairways and pushed the door open to the gallery. Just beneath his feet in the floor below, he could almost feel the excitement of the crowd, and if he was quiet enough he swore he could hear the buzz of voices. He checked the time again, he had less than two minutes to go.

“Jii-chan, are you in position?” he whispered into his com. He was taking light but fast steps as he ran down the corridor.

_“Yes,_ Bocchama _. I’m ready at your signal –“_

“Shhhh,” Kaito hissed as he rounded a corner and had to backtrack quickly before he could be discovered by a guard walking down the hallway. His heart pounded in his chest with adrenaline soaring through his veins. He felt like berating himself for his carelessness, he was becoming too cocky for thinking that there would not be any officer’s guarding the floors just because he had not encountered anyone on his way down.

He took a deep breath before taking a peek around the corner again. A light-brown-haired police woman was in the end of the corridor. She had his back towards him, and from the tension on her shoulders, she must be feeling nervous and slightly concerned. It did not matter to him though, he had already several contingency plans in place for the possibility of such a hindrance to occur.

Ducking back to the safety of his hiding place, he started searching through his pocket for a device to distract the guard. He was, however, interrupted in his search when a voice called from the other corridor that made Kaito freeze with a swear on his lips.

“Ha-hakuba-san” stuttered the female officer, and the thief could practically hear the blush blossoming on her cheeks.

“Evening Uehara-san, have you seen anything suspicious?” asked Hakuba Saguru with an arrogant tone of voice – or at least that was how Kaito decided to interpret it.

“Not yet, it seems deserted for now. Maybe you were wrong and _Kaitou KID_ isn’t going to enter through the –“ she cut herself off abruptly, but whether it was because the detective had made a hand sign or for some other reason, the magician could not tell from his hiding spot.

“Perhaps you are right,” Hakuba responded after a few moments, and the sound of clicking echoed through the room, the detective was probably looking at his pocket watch. “There is less than a minute left, I better make my way to the chamber or I will be late. Keep up the good work, Uehara-san, and send my regards to your mother. I hope she gets better soon.”

The detective’s words slowly drowned out as he started to walk away, and only the stuttering _thank you_ from the police woman followed his track.

Kaito had wasted precious seconds waiting for Hakuba to get out of earshot. He dropped his hands from his inner-pocket, and peeked around the corner once more to observe Uehara stare after Hakuba with a wistful expression. He held his breath for a moment, before calling out, deepening his voice to match that of the half-Brit.

“Could you check that room over there facing north-west? The door has a broken lock.”

The police woman froze for a moment, however Kaito’s ploy had worked as she immediately agreed without considering whether or not the distance between them was audibly possible. She left immediately, and the corridor was now clear.

The magician breathed in relief that it worked – had it not been for Hakuba’s previous presence, he would have tried scaring her away with a toy-mouse as a last resort. He started down the hallway when he heard Jii-chan speaking in his com once more.

_“Is everything alright, Bocchama? The time is –“_

Kaito checked the time and was dismayed to see that he was already five seconds passed the start of his heist. He had to hurry or he would let down his fans. “Activate the gas-bombs, I’ll be there shortly.”

The thief did not hear the affirmation as he finally reached the door. He only spent two seconds picking the lock – they had decided to leave it bolted lest it drew unwanted attention. He slipped through the door and closed it behind him. Looking around, he made sure not to step on any of the equipment in the broom closet as he headed into the back of the room – there was a hatched on the floor leading down to the chandelier hanging over the room below.

He crouched and grabbed the hitches, pulling it upwards towards him before pushing it away from the hole. He only got a glimpse into the room underneath – and he vaguely registered the white smoke that Jii-chan had activated filling the room – before there was a loud noise that popped his ears painfully. In that same instant, he felt the floor shaking beneath him as the room vibrated and he was hit by a wave of scorching heat that beat into his unprotected skin. Kaito automatically reeled back from the pressure accommodating the change in temperature. He stumbled as his heel hit the hatched and he tripped a moment later, hitting the ground with what would have been a hollow thump if his hearing had been working properly.

Kaito swallowed thickly, feeling as though he was in a daze – his mouth was dry like sand and there was a lingering ringing in his ears. Smoke filled his nostrils as he accidentally breathed deeply. He tried to sit up, but faltered for a moment as his whole body shook from the shock. His heart was hammering against his chest as adrenaline pumped into his blood, and broken thoughts swirled around in his head – what had just happened?

Finally managing to sit up, he crawled towards the opening in the floor to peer down. The sight that met him left his heart jumping to his throat as terror shook down his spine. The room was a mess: thick, black smoke filtered through the white gas Jii-chan had released earlier. The only light flashing through the haze was from the fire that had started in a corner. He could also see what looked like figures of people scattered on the ground through the smoke.

Without thinking, Kaito grabbed a gas mask he had hidden underneath his clothing, slipped it on, and dropped through the hole. He landed heavily on the floor, but his legs held him steady. His hearing had started to come back – he wished it had not a moment later, as he could her the groans and pitiful wailings of distress and pain. His heart seized again in fear and anguish for them.

There had been an explosion – and Aoko – _Aoko was down here somewhere_. He stumbled as the realization hit him, and his eyes wandered through the room with renewed terror as he was rooted to the floor. If it was not for the heist, - his heist! - _none of the people in the room would have been in harm’s way_. However, for that moment, his thoughts quickly reverted back to the fear-inducing awareness that somewhere, Aoko might be laying hurt and bleeding and possibly dying.

Kaito stumbled in a panic towards the closest person with a close resemblance, mumbling her name underneath his breath, checking if it was really her. _Aoko, Aoko, please be safe, please_. The whole reason he hid his night-time persona from her was so she would not get hurt – he could not live with himself if she got hurt. It was not supposed to be like this, his heists were supposed to just be fun and games. No one should have been hurt.

It was all his _damn_ fault.

He grabbed the woman’s shoulder and gently turned her around. Her whimpers drowned out the sounds from the rest of the room, and he instinctively reached out to extinguish the small flame flickering across her clothing before he pressed against the bleeding wound. It took him a moment to realize the woman was not Aoko, and he pulled out a colourful scarf – he did not have time to properly distinguish the colour through the thick smoke as he pressed the scarf around her wound to stop the bleeding.

Once he finished wrapping the fabric, he made to move away to search for Aoko anew, but did not get far as an arm suddenly reached out to grab the corners of his white jacket. He turned back to look at the source. With blood seeping from a wound above her brows, the woman stared at him, utterly petrified. 

“Don’t leave me – please, don’t leave,” her voice was barely above a whisper, and Kaito felt guilt filling him to a brim. He sunk to his knees, they shook too much to keep his weight as he grabbed her hand when she started to cough violently.

“Hang on – just hang on a little while longer. Help is on its way, I promise,” his voice trembling as he tried to keep it steady and reassuring, despite the panic bubbling in his chest. The woman kept staring at him for a moment longer, breath rasping and chest heaving from pain. Suddenly, her eyes rolled backwards and the grip that once had grabbed him tightly laxed as the arm fell back on top of her.

Swallowing, Kaito reached out to check her pulse, praying that she was still alive, uncertain what to do if she was not. He sighed in relief as he felt a irregular yet strong pulse thus against his two fingers as he leaned back on his heel. He raked his fingers through his hair as he gulped down a pocket of air, where was Aoko? _Please be alright Aoko, you have to be._

Only later, did he realize he had lost his top-hat in the blast, but the thought did not even deter him, far too preoccupied with the numbness of fear. The place looked like a nightmarish battlefield with smoke and fire and the smell of blood and burning flesh. It was a vision that would forever be stuck in his mind. Unforgettable.

“Kuroba!”

A voice echoed through the room. He froze immediately as he recognized the voice. His throat hitched and he slowly turned to face the direction of the voice. Through the swirling smoke, he could vaguely see a figure approaching him. A few seconds passed, before he finally managed to distinguish the familiar form of Hakuba Saguru.

Hakuba’s clothes were tattered on the fringes, and he was grabbing his arm in an awkward way as he limped forwards. His face was covered with a gasmask – thank god he had developed a habit of bringing one to the heists with Kaito’s penchant for throwing gas-bombs.

The thief parted his lips to deflect any accusation that was sure to come from the Brit. However, the detective did not seem to be focusing on him as the detective continued to speak with a low, controlling voice, filled with the same terror and anguish Kaito was struggling with. “You need to leave, you cannot be here.”

The magician clenched his teeth at the command and he rose to face Hakuba fully. “I’m not going anywhere until –“

“I will make sure she is alright. Now, get out of here. If this is really an attempt on your life, you can bet they have snipers waiting for your appearance in case you survived. If you are seen, we cannot guarantee anyone would come out alive. Least of all Aoko-san.”

Kaito’s stomach dropped to the floor, the cold chill filled his insides. He had not even imagined that scenario for one moment in his shock and need to make sure his childhood friend was safe – and if the detective had not been running late either, he would be amongst the moaning group scattered across the floor. He glanced behind him with a heart hammering as a last thought shot through him – if he had not been running late either, he would have been in the immediate blast zone and his insides would have been splattered across the walls.

He reeled backwards at the realization clenched his heart, his poker face thrown in the wind. He could not breathe as he gulped down pockets of air, and his whole body shook with the need to flee. He could have died, he had been a hair-breath away from ceasing to exist. He had been too careless, too stupid and confident – and never considered for one moment that the Syndicate would go after him through his fans.

Kaito would have stumbled backwards from blind panic, had a hand not landed on his shoulder to keep him steady. Glancing up, he could not see Hakuba’s expression through the mask nor the emotion in his eyes, but when he spoke it came out in a mere whisper.

“You need to leave Kuroba, right now. You do not have the luxury of panicking. Go, and do not even dare to look back.”

Kaito wanted to argue, to fight back. However, he found himself nodding in agreement a moment later. The detective was right, staying would only bring more danger to Aoko. He would have to trust Hakuba with her well-being. With a swear under his breath, he turned and ran. He ran out of the room with heavy steps and an aching heart – it felt like he was abandoning all those people. That he was leaving them to their terrible faith that was his fault alone. As he started up the stairs to the floor above, he could vaguely hear someone in the stairwell. He prayed it was the paramedics.

Reaching the sixth floor, he tapped on his com, finally remembering through the haze in his head that he was alone. “Jii-chan? Are you there? Please answer me,” he begged., However, unsurprisingly, there where was no response. He could only hope the explosion had only knocked out the elder magician’s earbuds.

With tears burning in his eyes, he fled like a coward, leaving his heart behind with the people below.

 


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wordcount: 6.3K
> 
> Published: 03.08.2017
> 
> Special thanks to Addy01 for betaing.

Running down the brightly lit corridor, Kudou Shinichi felt as if he had been in a marathon. There was the onslaught of paramedics, nurses, doctors and patients filling the hallway, and he had to dodge people left and right as he tried to make any headway to his destination.

He was taking short, controlled breaths as he tried to keep the fear edging on the fringes of his mind from overpowering him. He would not be of help to anyone if he wallowed far too much in the hysteria that he had barely been able to keep a tight lid on. He had been half across the city at a crime scene when the explosion in Beika’s Art Museum happened. It had taken several hours till someone had thought to notify him of the dreaded news.

His chest was still filled with ice-cold fear ever since he had heard the recorded voicemail message nearly an hour earlier from a tired Mouri Kogorou. Ran had been there in the middle of the blast zone when the explosion happened– it was all Sonoko, if only she had not dragged Ran to the heist.

_I should have been there_ , he thought, lips trembling as he narrowly managed to dodge another patient that had burst out of the door he was passing. He should have swallowed down his pride and gone – maybe he would have noticed something, anything to effectively defused the bomb before the explosion could ever have happened. What use were he and his powers of deductions if he could not keep the people who meant the most to him alive and well?

Subconsciously, Shinichi read the fear and worries on the faces of the people he passed -

A doctor rushed past with her coat swirling around her knees, and a stethoscope around her neck. The tight expression around her eyes and the deep exhaustion on her face clearly told him she had all but forgotten about equipment’s existence as he snapped up the broken strings of words from her thoughts _: “I don’t have the time to take two minutes to ring my son and make sure he’s alright. There are too many injured. Oh god, please don’t let him be my next patient.”_

Then, in a forgotten corner on a chair, Shinichi noticed an eleven-year old boy, with his clothes covered with patches of soot, crying his eyes out, and the adults running passed him looked at him with pity. However, none of them had any time to stop in their haste to attend to their next patient, to make sure the child was all right and not alone.  The sight of the bandage covering his arm and a white band-aid on his chin was enough to satisfy their mental checklist that he must have been attended to.

Feeling a mixture of anger and sympathy – who had left the boy all alone? – Shinichi diverted from his task and approached him. Ran would forgive him for his little detour, he was sure. He crouched down to the boy’s eye-level and let a friendly smile spread across his lips. “Hey there, what is your name? I’m Kudou Shinichi.”

The boy stiffened for a moment, before letting his hands fall from his face where he had been covering up his wet, tearful face. He had red splotches on his cheeks from the crying, and he sniffed a few times to calm down his breath enough to make an audible response. His green eyes were puffy and filled with fear. In the back of his mind, Shinichi observed he was short for his age. “’m K’no,” he managed to stutter, but the vocals disappeared as soon as they left his lips.

“Nice to meet you Kano-kun,” Shinichi responded, keeping his voice low-pitched and comforting. The boy was clearly in shock. “Are you in pain? Where are your parents?”

Kano’s shoulders began to shake at the question, but the detective could clearly tell it had nothing to do with the physical pain he was currently suffering from. Memories and pictures streamed from the child in fast flashes – children had always been difficult to read, especially when in shock – and for a moment Shinichi felt a headache throbbing behind his brows before he managed to piece together the information he had gathered from the boy’s mind.

Kano had gone to the heist with his mother – his father was not in the picture, the memory put him next to a pretty red-haired he had left Kano and his mother for. The boy had started to feel drowsy after a while and had problem breathing in the thick crowded area, and had told his mother he was just moving away to a less crowded part of the room for some fresh air. That had been the last time he had seen her.

“I’m sure your mother is safe and sound, you shouldn’t worry too much. If you can’t get hold of her now, why don’t we call your grandfather?”

Kano blinked in surprise, his eyes rounding slightly and his mouth popped open. “How do you –“

Shinichi’s lips curled upwards in a smirk this time and he patted two fingers against his forehead with a mischievous gleam in his eyes. “I know things, you see. So you should trust me.”

The boy had stopped his crying and he sat up more firmly - an expression of wonder evident across his face. Several thoughts spun around his mind at the possibilities that reigned from “ _does he work with Kamen Yaiba?”,_ to wondering if the detective was a celestial being, before he opened his mouth again to ask if Shinichi knew what had happened to his mother.

Shinichi felt a twinge of guilt for spinning a tale when he did not know, but he swallowed it down firmly. Reassuring the boy and keep him from panicking was the better choice. He stood before the question was asked and he grabbed the arm of a nurse in a soft-pink uniform. She had bleached blond hair, pulled up into a ponytail. She stopped in her tracks in surprise and she turned to him with an expression of slight vexation.

_“I don’t have time to stop and help, I’m needed everywhere. God, I wish Mifune-san in room 335 would stop hitting the alarm button every time he wants a pudding from the kitchen. That old man is perfectly capable of walking on his own.”_

She forced a smile on her lips as her eyes bypassed Shinichi without giving him a single glance as she watched someone screaming down the hall. “Is something wrong, sir? I’m kind of in a hurry –“

Shinichi cut her off briskly. He knew the medical personnel were on red-alert being flooded by injured from the explosion, but Kono had been sitting here for the last few hours alone and afraid, _it was not right_. “It’ll only take a moment Morino-san. The boy here has been sitting here for hours and doesn’t know if his mother is even in this hospital. Would you be so kind and get a phone so he can call his grandfather so he won’t be all alone?”

Morino finally turned to face the two and her shoulders lowered as she saw the bruised and tear-faced child on the bench. Her features softened in sympathy and she gave a short nod – she could spare a few moments to help out. Before she could agree to it, Shinichi turned to the boy.

“You’ll be in good hands now, Morino-san is a skilled nurse. She’ll help you find your mum.”

Kono turned to face the nurse with hope lightning his eyes. “You will really help me, _oneesan?”_

Morino nodded and crouched next to the boy and grabbed one of his hands in hers. “Of course I will, why don’t you come with me and we’ll get you access to a phone, yeah?”

Shinichi did not wait to hear the response as he was already on the move again, feeling a little better now that he had been able to help at least one person. He evaded the crowded elevator once he came to the end of the hallway and took the stairs instead. By the time he had climbed three floors and entered a new corridor, he was a little out of breath. It was quieter here, less crowded and he could hear the humming from the air condition. A nurse’s station stood to his immediate right. However, he did not approach as he started down the hallway, he already knew which door number he was searching for.

Shinichi’s heart started to beat a little faster for every step he took, and by the time he got to the door, he found himself suddenly rooted to the floor from the sheer pounding of his heart against his chest. His breathing had turned heavier, but this time it had nothing to do with physical exertion from earlier.

The door was cracked slightly open, but all he could see from where he stood was half of a hospital chair and a clock on the wall. From inside the room, he could hear the sound of someone snoring and the mechanical beeping from hospital equipment.

Fear flooded through him again, and his arm refused to move. He dreaded to see what was behind the barrier of the door. Half of him needed to make sure that Ran was safe and sound, the other half of him knew he would be utterly crushed if she was not. He wanted to be stuck in his Schrödinger’s box for a few moments more. He clenched his fists tightly, then relaxed them – wondering for half a second if he should have bought with him a bouquet of flowers, only to shake the idea away. Nothing would be open this time a day.

Deciding to man up, he took the final step forwards and pushed the door open. The sight that he was greeted with sent his stomach dropping to the floor with an ice-cold terror. Ran looked so small and fragile in the hospital bed. An oxygen mask was covering half her face, the rest was wrapped in bandages.

In a corner in the only semi-comfortable looking chair in the room, Mouri Kogorou was snoring. He looked older than usual, the last few hours had deepened the wrinkles around his mouth and eyes. Even his usually pristine moustache looked tattered from exhaustion.

A small television was mounted in the top corner of the room. It was tuned into one of Yoko Okino’s television shows, although he could not tell, nor did he care, whether if it was live or a recording. Soft music was barely audible, drowned out from the peeping of the machines and the soft snoring.

Before Shinichi knew it, he was already halfway across the room and took one of her hands in his. She looked too pale in the artificial light, like a ghost, or a part of the room’s wallpaper. Her chest moved up and down steadily but far slower than he would have liked. The light-green hospital gown was not remotely flattering to her figurine.

He squeezed the hand in his softly, she felt too cold to the touch. A painful clump formed in his throat. A feeling of guilt and anger washed through him – guilt over not being there to save her, and anger that someone had let this happen. Ran was too motionless and too doll-like in her sleep, and watching her made his stomach churn painfully. As long as he had known her, she had always been filled with so much life and vibrant, and she had always been so spirited and earnest.

Shinichi could not read her now: there were no thoughts coming from her. No comfort or smiles, and that scared him more than anything else.

“She’s in a coma,” Shinichi declared his confusion, letting the words fill the empty silence of the room.

 The soft snoring from the corner stopped abruptly, followed by the sound of ruffling fabric as Kogorou sat up in his seat. When the old detective spoke, his voice was grave and low. “You knew I wasn’t asleep, huh.”

Shinichi did not turn to face him, he could not take his eyes of the form of her. “What did the doctor say?”

Kogorou didn’t respond immediately, he took his time shifting position on the hospital chair, and Shinichi did not have to look at him to know he was yearning to smoke a cigarette to calm his nerves.

“The head injuries caused a swelling in her brain. They can’t be sure of how severe the damage is until she wakes up,” he trailed off completely, as if his voice turned too thick to speak.

Shinichi tightened his grip on Ran’s hand at the news, and for a moment he loathed the fact he never forgot anything he learned. He had poured over medical books in the past – any information could be useful for solving a case...

“If she wakes, you mean,” his voice came out colder than he had intended, and his tongue kept on rolling without his permission. “The longer she’s is unconscious, the less the chance there is that she will recover. Perhaps the swelling had already been pushed down on her brain stem to the point where the Reticular Activation System is damaged. That’s the part of the brain that is responsible for arousal and awareness. Ran will never wake up again if –“

“ _Shinichi_.”

The teen was cut off abruptly as a pair of hands grabbed his shoulders and started to shake him. He swallowed down a sob that threatened to escape as he was forced around to face Mouri Kogorou. The same worries reflected in each other’s eyes – the same fear and panic that they would lose the girl they both cared and loved for dearly.

_“It’s all my fault. I should have been a better father, made sure she was all right. I should have been there for her, instead I was out drinking. I’m a failure as a detective, a husband and as a father.”_

Shinichi lowered his eyes immediately, the onslaught of emotions and thoughts coming from the man was making him feel nauseated. He could not stop the flashes of memories flaring through him – he could see Mouri’s guilt, watched him hold Ran as a six year old girl, Eri walking out with luggage under her arm and the old police officer begging her not take Ran away from him.

_“Ran is the most precious person to me. I’m nothing without her. Please don’t take away my sdaughter. I can’t live without her.”_

Shinichi shook the arms off and stumbled a few steps away from him – letting Ran’s hand slip from his grasp as he did. His breath caught in his throat and he gasped for air as though he had actually been running that marathon.

“It’s not your fault, Shinichi,” Mouri repeated with a softer voice this time, repeating the teen’s first name in an attempt to reach him instead of the unflattering nickname the man usually christen him with – it was a common technique to calm people down. “If you had been there, you would have ended up in a similar hospital bed – and Ran, Ran wouldn’t have wanted that.”

Shinichi’s lips curled upwards in a mocking smile. “As if we wouldn’t both rather have been hurt trying to save her,” he turned to face the old detective anew. This time, he was prepared for the anguish simmering down Mouri’s facial features in the form of tears. They would have done everything in their power to save her – but Kogorou was a father first and foremost, and his first instinct was to console the boy he had known since he was a toddler.

Shinichi clenched his teeth, anger bubbling in his chest at the sight. He did not need comfort or reassurance – he certainly did not want to hear it from this man. He took one last glance at the sleeping form in the hospital bed, before turning around on the sole of his feet and stormed out of the room. Fleeing from the argument might have been childish of him, but he needed a moment alone to collect his own thoughts.

His heart was still hammering too fast in his chest for his liking, but no amount of controlled breath could calm down the panic and guilt soaring through him. He felt like a broken record where his thoughts went on the same loop over and over again: _it’s my fault, I should have been there. I should have been there. I should have saved her –_

He stumbled down the corridor, letting his fingers brush against the walls as he did, in case his legs finally gave in and needed support. He stopped abruptly as he came to a vending machine. Without looking, he fished his wallet from his pocket and shook out a few coins. His hands trembled however, and the coins fell through his finger and jingled across the floor.

He curled his palm tightly, feeling tears start to prickle in his eyes and threatening to spill. Ran should never have gotten into this situation. Of the two of them, he had always thought he would be the one getting hurt to the point of death – seeing as his vocation as a detective was a dangerous one. Ran was only an innocent bystander – _she should never have – never been – why did it have to be her?_

“Kudou Shinichi-kun?”

Shinichi glanced up in surprise: he had not heard anyone approaching. He swallowed down thickly and forced his breathing to even out before turning to face the newcomer. The sight that greeted him was a person in his late teens, he had a golden-brown shade to his hair that looked blond underneath the bright artificial lights of the hospital. His clothes were tattered with soot and the fabric on his left upper-arm had been sliced apart with surgical precision and replaced with white bandages. There were patches of brown on the otherwise white compressions, the bleeding from his stitches must have stopped a while ago. Underneath his right arm was a hospital crutch which he was leaning heavily against.

It took Shinichi merely a second to soak in the information, and only a moment more to recognize the person’s identity – he had been thrown out for a moment at the misshapen form and at the fact the usual well-combed appearance and hair that the person usually sported was in disarray.

“Hakuba-kun,” he greeted back to the detective, and he was awarded with a tired smile in response. Avoiding his eyes, the telepath dropped to the floor in order to pick up the coins scattered across the ground. It was a poor excuse to not face Hakuba just yet. However he was too tired to stop himself from reading everyone else’s thoughts and feelings at that very moment, with exhaustion weighting on his shoulders and mind.

By the time he had managed to sweep up all the coins, Shinichi was feeling more calm and in control over his emotions. With a deep breath, he stood and turned back to the machine. “Do you want some drinks?”

There was a moment of ruffling of clothes as Hakuba moved a step forwards. “I would not decline the offer of a cup of coffee.”

Shinichi’s lip twitched upwards once, before making an affirmative noise in agreement. At this time of hour, you would definitely need many a cup of coffee to stay awake, otherwise you would fall asleep in your chair. He pushed the coins into the machine and pressed on the buttons for the coffee. The machine hummed as a paper cup appeared and the black liquid started to pour out with hot steam swirling from the cup.

Neither of the detectives spoke as the cup was filled. When the machine was done, Shinichi picked it up and offered it to Hakuba without a word before turning back to the machine to make a second cup.

“Thank you,” the British detective finally broke the silence hanging over them. “I needed that.”

“No need. It’s been a long evening, it’s the least I could do.”

There was a slurping sound from behind Shinichi as Hakuba took a sip of his coffee – it surprised him slightly, seeing as the other detective tended to keep to British courtesy where he could, and the accidental sound only indicated how deeply exhausted he was.

“Has the investigation already started,” Hakuba asked once he lowered the cup again, “are you on the case –“

Shinichi cut him short with a low voice, his heart clenching again in his chest. “No, that’s not why I’m here.” The machine beeped again and he grabbed the paper cup between his hands, the warmth bit into his fingertips, and for a moment it felt as though it could chase away the coldness that had spread inside of him since he had picked up the phone how-many hours earlier.

“I hope your friends are alright,” Hakuba continued with a sympathetic voice, not missing a second as he realized the meaning behind Shinichi’s words – and he appreciated it greatly that the other detective had not formed the sentence as a question.

“How are you doing, Hakuba?” he asked instead, finally turning to face him properly. Hakuba’s eyes were mostly covered by the tattered bangs, and he seemed to have gotten tired of brushing them out of his face constantly. Although his eyes looked tired and face drawn, intelligence still glowed in his eyes that told Shinichi that the detective was absorbing up all the information of their meeting and conversation.

Shinichi only got a glimpse of his thoughts before lowering his eyes: “ _the smudge of brown clay on the bottom on his pants, and the pollen of a Bonsai tree stuck on his sweater.  A clear indication that Kudou must have come straight from the triple homicide I heard over the police radio by the botanical garden.”_

“A twisted ankle and some scratches, I will recover. I was lucky –“

Hakuba’s voice drowned out before Shinichi suddenly staggered backwards. Fear and terror washed over him. His head snapped in the direction of the British detective immediately, and flashes of memories shot through him in an almost incoherent speed. It slowed down after a few moments, but not before a headache had started to brew between his eyebrows. With almost clarity, he could see the events from Hakuba’s viewpoint: 

_‘Saguru_ _ran down the stairway_ , _one hand grasping at his pocket-watch as he glanced down at it every few moments. He was running late. It had taken him too long to check the corridor upstairs. There were entirely too many entry points into this museum: he had already calculated several ways for Kaitou KID to break into the facility. Someone needed to upgrade the security._

_Reaching the fourth floor, he pushed the door open to the hallway, and he could already see white-smoke filling the room from gas-bombs released by the phantom thief. Saguru had already anticipated the move, and reached down to a hidden compartment in his coat for a state of the art gas mask that he always kept handy during KID’s heists. He only took his eyes off the room for a moment while putting on the mask, but the next thing he knew, there was a deafening noise popping in his ears before he was propelled backwards by something hard and quick brushing his side, followed by a wave of scorching heat that was threatening to melt his skin. He stumbled, trying to keep on his feet from the force, but his heels hit the edge of the stair. He did not have a second chance to gain his balance as he tripped, twisting his ankle in the process and he landed heavily on the floor._

_Saguru gasped, half trying to gulp down more oxygen, the other half because of the pain. Agony ached through him from the impact and he was lain stunned from the daze of confusion for precious seconds. As he managed to struggle back to clarity, he could finally hear the hammering of his heart in his chest and his fingers tingled and twitched from adrenaline soaring through him. Swallowing down the pain, he pushed himself up to a seated position. He vaguely noticed the pieces ssof what looked like wood laying next to him – it must have been what had flown past him in such a speed._

_For a second, Saguru wondered what kind of impractical joke Kaitou KID had done to him – it was far more dangerous than anything else the thief had done at his heists in the past. Had he purposely tried to injure the detective? The stray thought died before it was formed properly, as he finally noticed the dark-grey smoke coming from the stairs above him._

_His heart seized to move in his chest for an alarming minute – that smoke, the sudden notice of the smell of burning flesh – it finally dawned to him that something had gone very awry. Jumping to his feet and ignoring the protesting ache from his left foot and the vertigo threatening to force him back to the ground, Saguru started up the stairs with a lump in his throat and the desperate hope that his senses was deceiving him and everyone was alright. Unharmed and alive.’_

Shinichi was brought back from the memories with a shuddering gasp, and a hand hovering on his shoulder as Hakuba debated on whether he should shake Shinichi from his trance. The telepath suddenly noticed the coldness of the ground biting into his fingertips and he realized he must have fallen to his knees, one hand on the floor for support. The other was clutching the fabric of his shirt just above his heart and his breath came out too quick and raspy. It felt as if his heart was an eagle’s wing beating against his chest. And he knew, if he had opened his eyes, that the lights would be too bright and black dots would dance across his iris.

The world felt like he was in a bobble, Hakuba’s voice called to him from worlds away. Everything felt too much and too raw for his senses, and Shinichi cursed himself for not being more careful. He had been too exhausted to keep his shields up, Hakuba was usually so calm and quiet he had not even considered the possibility of such over-powered wave of turmoil from the blonde detective. He should have expected it – Hakuba had just been in a horrifying situation, had not yet been able to deal with the events of the day.

Slowly, the world started to shift back into focus, one sensation at the time – the warmth liquid of the coffee he had dropped had seeped into the fabric of his jeans; the taste of ash and the dryness in his mouth, the sterile smell of the hospital was tickling his nose, as well as the smell of soot and burnt flesh and blood clinging to Hakuba like a dark veil.

The last sense that he regained was his hearing, and the first thing he noticed was the worried tone of the Englishman’s voice as he spoke. “Kudou-kun, are you alright? Can you hear me? Should I get a doctor? Are you hurt anywhere?” the questions came in a quick succession after another in the hope that any one of them would finally reach the telepath.

Shinichi swallowed thickly, and it took him two tries to remember how to work his throat. “No, I’m – I’m fine.” He tried to stand, but his body refused to move an inch as his muscles spasmed in exhaustion as though he had just run a third marathon for the day– or actually experienced the explosion personally.

Although he could not lift his face to gouge his companion’s facial features, he could feel Hakuba’s hesitation and doubt. However, he did not push the subject. Shinichi could hear the sound of fabric moving against each other when Englishman withdrew his hovering hands.

Shinichi was thankful, he did not think he could handle having anyone fuss over him – especially not by nurses or doctors thinking he was hurt. His mental shields would not have been able to sustain it. An oppressing silence fell over them, and he could tell Hakuba was fighting the impulse to walk away to find help or figure out a way to assist his fellow detective, even though he did not know how to.

Shinichi let himself regain his bearing a few moments longer, before mustering enough energy to stand – forcing himself to stand as he could tell if he did not do so soon, he would not be able to walk away on his own feet. Both from the mental and physical exhaustion he had just suffered. He raked a hand through his hair, before glancing in the direction of his companion.

Hakuba’s expression was grim as he regarded Shinichi, and his lips curled downwards in displeasure. There was a flash of “ _he does not seem fine”_ in his gaze as their eyes met. Shinichi swallowed down the lump forming in the back of his throat from the sympathy.

He decided to shift the attention from himself by changing the topic. “What exactly happened, do you know? So far, the reports are being quiet about any additional information about the explosion. Did you see what kind of bombs were used –“

Hakuba suddenly lowered his gaze, his eyes darting to the side as a tremble quivered in his lower lip. Emotions flashed by too fast to comprehend – and Shinichi was too tired to try to read them, he was still suffering from the phantom memories haunting the English detective. “No, I – There weren’t any bombs.”

Shinichi furrowed his brows in confusion for a second, before his eyes widened fractionally from shock. “You mean –“

“No one noticed,” Hakuba’s voice was low and grave as he spoke. Guilt and worry lay thick on his tone. “There was too many people in the room. And due to the cold temperature, the gas mixed in was too thin. None of us realized –“ he trailed off, but Shinichi picked up from where he stopped.

“Just a few percentages, two or three, is enough to cause a lot of damage. The gas leak must have been right on top of the crowd,” he stopped, suddenly realizing he should not have spoken up. Hakuba had started to sag where he stood in exhaustion, and he was only upright due to the crutch keeping him steady – if it had not been for it, he would have most likely been floundering to the floor where Shinichi had just picked himself up from.

“It wasn’t your fault, you know that, don’t you?”

The Englishman did not meet his eyes, and Shinichi’s stomach dropped. Of course Hakuba would feel responsible, but there had been nothing either of them could have done. The moment _Kaitou KID_ released the bombs, the gas would have ignited –

He clenched his teeth, feeling anger roar in his chest as he realized something crucial. All of this would have been avoidable had it not been for the thief – no one would have even been in the building at the time, and Ran would not have gone with Sonoko in the hopes of catching a glimpse of the phantom thief.

“If anything, its _KID’s_ fault,” Shinichi words ripped from his throat with an icy growl. “If he wasn’t so foolish as to publicly invite people to his heists in a distorted need for attention, then none of this would have happened. No one would have been hurt – and did you know? So far, eight people have succumbed to their injuries from the explosion.”

“I –“ Hakuba spoke up, interrupting the detective’s angry rant. His eyes darted back to Shinichi’s face to carefully gouge his facial expression, and his voice was low and careful as he continued. “I’m sure _Kaitou KID_ feels guilty and responsible. I agree with you, but it was an accident, he’s gone out of his way to make sure no one gets hurt in the past –“

Shinichi narrowed his eyes at the Englishman, and barely managed to keep a snarl from forming on his lips. “It does not excuse his actions. He needs to be caught and put behind bars sooner rather than later. How foolish is the public, thinking he is harmless and all fun and games – No, he’s a dangerous individual and the police should have realized the safety hazard of giving him room to run around. We need to keep him accountable for his actions.”

He paused for a moment, seeing the half-formed agreement in Hakuba’s gaze, however something shimmered on the surface that led Shinichi to believe he yearned to come to the thief’s defence.

“If he’s half the man you think he is, Hakuba-kun, then he should give himself into the police _right now_. His antics have created nothing but trouble – and now lives have been lost and many are several injured – _“ Like Ran_ , his heart beat heavily in his chest. He would catch Kaitou KID for her and get his revenge, he vowed silently to himself. He had not been there to protect her when she had needed him the most, he would make up for it now.

Hakuba was staring at Shinichi with a tired expression, and his eyelids quivered for a moment. “He does need to be accountable for his actions –“ _but Kuroba could never have anticipating this accident._

Shinichi’s gaze immediately snapped towards the detective’s.  His breath hitched in his throat for a moment in surprise at the string of thoughts coming from him. “Kuroba? Who is _Kuroba?”_

Hakuba blanched backwards so violently he dropped the crutch he was holding, it went cluttering across the floor, and only shifting his weight to his good foot kept the Englishman on his feet. _Guilt_ and fear flashed across his face and his eyes turned impossibly wide as he stared at Shinichi with an expression of _“how does he know about – are the rumours that Kudou is a telepath true? That’s impossible, it can’t be – just fiction.”_

“We must fall back upon the old axiom that when all other contingencies fail, whatever remains, however improbable, must be the truth,” Shinichi quoted , well used to many being sceptical about his abilities. He did not care whether anyone believed him or not.

Hakuba had lost all coherency as he stared at Shinichi with a mixture of fear and bewilderment as his thoughts spun in his head. The Englishman had always been practical and always believed in science, the knowledge that someone possessed what seemed to be supernatural ability was not comprehensible to him.

Shinichi wanted to push the subject, demand an answer – what did _Kaitou KID_ have to do with the name _Kuroba_? Did Hakuba know the identity of the phantom thief? Could it be that the British detective was in cahoots with KID? _Unforgivable_ ¸ he growled through clenched teeth.

“If you know something and are protecting _Kaitou KID_ , that makes you just as bad as him – no, you are worse for protecting him. You should have him arrested and put behind bars where he can’t hurt anyone again. This could all have been avoided! _If you know something, tell me, Hakuba.”_ His hands prickled with the urge to grab a hold of him and shake out an answer. If he had the skill to, he would have tried to push the memories from Hakuba up to light – however that was not how his ability worked. He could only read surface thoughts, and for the first time in his life he was angry over the fact that he couldn’t do more.

“Don’t be an accomplice to his crimes by being quiet, Hakuba. Those eight lives are on your shoulders now, too,” he turned on his heels, not waiting for an answer – he could not read Hakuba anymore, not with his own anger clouding his vision to read the other detective. He also did not want to see the expression on the Englishman’s face and he was too angry to do anything else. He would do anything in his power to make sure the culprit was caught before Ran woke up – it was the least he could do.

The rage followed him down the corridor in utter disbelief over the other detective’s actions. Why was he protecting someone he had sworn to catch in the past? It made no sense to Shinichi, and he decided quickly that he did not care. He would find and catch _Kaitou KID_ no matter the price, even if he had to throw Hakuba under the bus – he was protecting the man who was responsible for getting Ran hurt. It was unforgivable.

He came to an abrupt stop in the doorway leading into Ran’s hospital room. A new lump formed in his throat but he swallowed it down quickly as he stepped through, only to freeze in his tracks. Mouri had left the room – most likely to smoke, however the room was not empty. A person sitting in a wheel chair was crouching by Ran’s bed.

Over the beeping of the machines he could hear the soft murmurs of Sonoko whispering like a broken record; _“Oh Ran, I’m so, so very sorry. Please, wake up.”_

Shinichi felt exhaustion seep into his bones again, chasing away the anger. He leaned against the door with a deep but silent sigh. Everyone was feeling guilty and responsible, and everyone had a reason to. _No_ ¸ he thought, feeling only tired now, none of them should feel guilty for not being there or not being able to stop the explosion before it happened.

It was _Kaitou KID’_ s fault and no one else’s – and deep down, a feeling stirred within him, _everything would get better once the thief was caught and help accountable for his crimes._ Shinichi even had a name to start with, and that was all he needed to bring this menace to justice.

_Wake up soon, Ran. I’ll catch him for you, just you wait._

 


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I apologize for my tardiness of getting this chapter out. It was supposed to be up last week (with a weekly chapter posted) however certain things in my personal life left me unmotivated and busy.
> 
> Special thanks for Addy for betaing. 
> 
> Wordcount: 6.4K
> 
> Published: 17.08.2017

 

He felt terrible, like as if he was walking around with a black thundercloud above him. As if his heart would not stop hammering against his chest constantly, his nose was still filled with the heavy smoke and smell of burning flesh even days after that event. Kuroba Kaito was a nervous wreck; everything had gone wrong with the heist, and it was entirely his own fault.

If only he had not held a heist that day. If only he had not used gas-bombs – _if only, if only_. The thoughts spun around in his head constantly. Because of him, eleven people had died the last few days – though thankfully, none that he knew personally.  He had been guiltily relieved that Aoko had not been amongst the casualties. Except for a broken arm and a few bruises, she would recover fully. Jii-chan had a few broken ribs and Hakuba was still limping some.

Katio had never considered that the repercussions of his actions would culminate in such a devastating way – he had always believed the only casualty, if there was any, would be himself for taking on a crime syndicate with assassins on its payroll practically on his own. But this, a mere accident causing more damage than what Snake and his minions had ever done?

It was a horror he had never imagined.

Half of him wanted to flee, wanted to run as far away from the incident as he could. It was a childish impulse rooted in guilt – how could he face Aoko every day knowing she had almost been killed because of him? Plus, she did not even know it was his fault in the first place. He could clearly tell that his childhood friend was worried about him, and he did not know how to reassure her that he was alright when he was clearly not.

His pokerface was shattering now, right at the time when he needed it the most.

“ _Kaito,”_ Aoko growled with an impatient voice. _“Are you even listening to me?”_

A hand waved in front of his face, but he vaguely followed the motion with his eyes as he laid floundering across the small table.

“Get your elbow out of my textbook,” she continued and he felt a tug on his shoulder as she tried to push him off without any success. With a sigh, he pushed himself back to a seated position with a clearly unhappy expression.

“It’s not my fault this paper is so boring it made me fall asleep,” he responded with a petulant expression. It had only been five days since the explosion, but he still had homework and assignments to write for school – and no matter how much he would rather wallow in self-pity, he needed to keep up the appearance.

Or at least, that was what his mother had told him when he had offhandedly suggested he ran off to France with her.

“I told you to write it last week,” Aoko said without sympathy. “You really need to stop writing these on the last day.”

He glanced in her direction, and on cue, his stomach clenched in guilt again, with the same intensity as when he first saw her five days ago. Aoko’s left arm was in a sling and a large, white, medical band-aid was covering half her left cheek. Her brown hair was more of a mess than usual, a clear indication she had problems brushing her it on her own. There was creases around her eyes and brows that told him that she was concerned and that she was in some pain.

The effect of the painkillers must be subsiding.

Kaito’s eyes wandered back to the computer screen in front of him, he had only written half a page so far. The noise in the room were both loud and muffled at the same time as the voices mixed together into an inaudible murmur. He had a half-a cup of cold coffee placed on his right and an untouched piece of pie on a small plate.

He had not been in the mood to go to the café to study today, but had only accepted the proposal due to Aoko. He could not ignore her wishes, especially when she obviously needed his company. It was the least he could do. Even if it just made him feel even more guilty and ashamed, being constantly reminded that she had been injured. He should have made a better effort to keep her away from the heists – his lucky streak could not last forever.

His fingers dug into the fabric of his jeans as he curled his fingers tightly. Tears prickled in his eyes again, but he did his best to control his breathing – he could not have another panic attack now. Not in public – and especially not in front of Aoko. _Stay strong, damnit. Don’t worry her more than you have to. I’m supposed to take care of her._

“Let’s just leave it for now, Aoko-kun,” Hakuba cut in, not unkindly, his voice laced with a hint of sympathy,. “It’s been a stressful week for all of us.”

In response, she made a small noise in the back of her throat that sounded as much like displeasure as it was affirmative. “One good thing came out of this all though, we don’t have to write the stupid assignment, only Kaito does.” The humour in her voice died immediately as she realized with horror what she had just said, and her eyelids fluttered shot as she evaded their gazes. It was clear to the boys that she had tried to make a light-hearted remark, but her mouth and head had not cooperated fully.

“Excuse me for a second –“ she stood abruptly, cutting the sentence in half as she did. She did not meet their eyes as she mumbled a vague phrase that Kaito took as ‘ _I need to go to the bathroom’_ before she turned and left. Following her with his gaze, he noticed she was rubbing her eyes furiously before disappearing from view.

Kaito’s stomach dropped at the realization he had made Aoko cry, and he had the sudden urge to punch himself in the gut for his tactless approach. She was struggling, and here he could not even manage to cheer her up – for a moment, he felt like an utter failure and not worthy of her kind-hearted affections. He was supposed to make her smile and forget her worries, not the other way around.

“She’s a strong person. She’ll get through it with our help,” Hakuba commented with a low voice. Kaito glanced in his distraction, and for a moment he could see a sad wistfulness in the detective’s features.

Hakuba was dressed as immaculately as always, and only the small winces he did whenever he stretched his arm, pulling the stitches on his arm, hinted that his injury was still bothering him. A tasteless, white cane with an ivory handle rested against his chair. They had not talked about what had transpired at the heist even once, and for some reason that Kaito could not fathom, the detective was not hounding him about it. Kaito could not decide whether he should be grateful to his reprieve, or if the knowledge that Hakuba was pitying him was worse.

For a second, the magician wanted to roar at the detective as anger bubbled in his chest. He did not deserve sympathy for the one person who knew – especially not after everything that had happened. Not when half the nation could not decide whether to blame Kaitou KID for the incident, or if he should be arrested and held accountable for his crimes.

Kaito did not know what he should do. He had taken over the persona of the phantom thief for a reason: to find out who had murdered his father and as a means of getting revenge over the criminal syndicate responsible for his death. But now? Was it worth the price? Perhaps he had been foolish, thinking it would be alright, that he could have some fun in the process – Kaitou KID brought magic and enjoyment and a promise of amazing to the audience attending the heist.

Perhaps he should have worked in the shadows instead. Had not his father been killed for his hubris and belief that he was invincible?

Arrogance was a treacherous thing.

“What would you have me do,” Kaito said without meaning to, and he evaded his eyes. “How can I make it better –“ he hesitated for a fraction of a second, before adding for appearance sake, “ – for her.”

Hakuba did not respond immediately as a silence throbbed between them, lifting his cup and took a long sip before responding. “That’s the one question I lack the answer to, Kuroba-kun. Only, you can decide that for yourself.”

The magician had been the first to bring up the tabooed topic, but Hakuba seemed declined to even discuss it – which surprised Kaito, but now, he threw caution in the wind. The guilt and uncertainty and shame was eating him up from the inside and he just needed someone to tell him what he could do to make things right.

“That’s a surprise,” he managed to stutter as his tongue finally unglued itself from the roof of his mouth, “you are usually full of opinions.”

“I cannot judge what actions you should take. That choice is yours entirely,” the detective spoke, the sound of his voice barely audible in the crowded room. “I only ask you do not further hurt Aoko-kun, her heart could not bear another blow.”

Kaito’s heart clenched at the sad expression on Hakuba’s face – neither of them wanted her harmed. She was the most important person to them, they loved her both dearly. The magician had long suspected that Hakuba had developed romantic feelings towards Aoko, and the expression on his face, as well as his sudden turnabout in his opinions towards _Kaitou KID_ was an affirmation of Kaito’s observations.

The question remained: could Aoko live with the knowledge that her best friend since childhood not only was a criminal, but now a killer too?

Kaito took a shaking breath, was he brave enough to put Aoko first? Did he not owe her that much? Or would she better off if he disappeared from her life forever.

_Damnit_ , this was all so confusing. Everything was such an utter mess, and Kaito had barely been able to sleep for the last few days with the heavy thoughts clouding his mind. If only he could go back in time and change everything - all those lives where on his shoulders alone.

“Are you going to eat that pie?”

Kaito looked up in surprise as Aoko spoke, he had not noticed her arrival. She was staring at him with a curious but worried expression, and his chest clenched in guilt again for always worrying her. Without responding, he shoved the plate in her direction.

“I’m not really hungry,” he mumbled, then stood awkwardly. “I’m, erh, running out of batteries on my computer. I’ll find a place to charge it.” He evaded her gaze to hide the shame burning on his cheeks as he picked up the device and turned to let his gaze wander over the crowd.

Although the café was not filled to capacity, most of the tables by the walls where the electrical outlets were located was occupied by other students studying. His lips twitched downwards in discontent, before noticing in the back there was a table by the corner with a free charger – only a lone person sat there with his head bowed into a stack of manila folders.  

With relief beating in his chest, he mumbled a quick. “I’ll sit over there if you need anything,” before making his way to the spot. The person did not seem to notice him before he slipped into the seat, and he plastered on a friendly smile.

“Sorry about this, but your table is the only one with an unused outlet and my paper is due tomorrow.”

He finally looked up and blinked once at Kaito, before his lips curled up in a half amused-half apologetic expression. “No worries, I didn’t even notice.  Feel free to use it,” he started to sweep his documents into a neatly folded pile in order to give the magician space to settle.

Kaito’s smile turned into a more natural grin as he nodded in appreciation. “Cheers, mate. Just pretend I’m not here.” He crouched over and quickly plugged in his charger before setting up the computer. He felt the tension on his shoulders draining slightly now that the object of his guilt was not sitting in front of him, and he could finally focus on his assignment.

Unfortunately, his concentration did not last long, as he felt the burning stare of his companion drill into his skull.  He fidgeted once in his chair, keeping down the uneasy flush from crawling up from his neck. Finally giving up pretending he did not notice, Kaito’s eyes glanced up from his computer screen, only to see the man’s eyes were directed towards the many stack of papers covering his half of the table.

A frown creased between his brows at the sight – he could have sworn the direction of the stare came from right in front of him. He let his eyes wander across the table this time with inquisitive curiosity – his companion was in in his late teens, with meticulously combed dark-brown hair with a cowlick and a small, endearing tuft in the back. His cheek bones were smooth and narrow and his nose round: it was the face of an attractive and handsome individual – and Kaito was sure he had many girls swooning over him.

He was wearing a midnight blue attire that looked to be expensive yet comfortable as it hugged his form in all the right places. Underneath the eyelashes, his eyes were a cerulean blue, a colour that almost reminded Kaito of an apatite – a light blue gemstone.

The magician had a feeling of deja-vu, that he had seen this person before. However he could not yet place a name to the face. When the teen did not show any indication he noticed Kaito studying him, the magician once more lowered his eyes to focus on the computer screen. Perhaps his companion was struggling with his work, like Kaito was at the moment.

Kaito’s stomach clenched again as he felt the burning gaze return, and his eyes fluttered up again hoping to catch the eyes, but once again, the teens eyes were concentrating on the many documents resting in front of him.

With a suffering sigh, he sat up in his chair and lowered the computer screen. He would not be able to get any work done as long as the mystery was tickling on his mind. “I’m Kuroba Kaito, have we met somewhere before?”

He got a reaction this time, as his companion’s eyes shot open in surprise. This time however, Kaito’s heart jumped in surprise and adrenaline flooded through him before he could recognize the reason. He had been mistaken earlier: the intense gaze on him had not been burning from curiosity, it seemed to be an effect the teen automatically exuded. It was one filled with intelligence that absorbed and calculated everything on autopilot, and Kaito had the distinct feeling the teen would remember everything they were going to talk about here in crystal clear detail, long after they departed.

And that burning, blue eyes felt as though it was staring straight into his very soul, and the magician suddenly felt entirely too exposed.

“ _Kuroba_ ,” he said a moment later, almost as though he was tasting Kaito’s name. His eyes suddenly flickered off the magician for a fraction of a second, before narrowing slightly as his gaze intensified. “You wouldn’t possibly be Hakuba Saguru’s friend?”

Now it was Kaito’s turn to look surprised. He eyed the teen again, however no epiphany struck him this time either. After a few seconds pause, he snorted for the appearance sake – everyone he knew know of his animosity with the Brit. “Calling us friends would be pushing it,” he forced a lazy grin. “As if that stuck-up-detective has any friends.”

A ghost of a smile twitched in the corner of the man’s lips, before his facial features smoothed out. His eyes were burrowing into Kaito, and the magician had to resist the growing urge to squirm in his seat. The gaze had grown less inquisitive and more as though it was studying and picking him apart like a bug underneath a magnifying glass.

“How do you know Hakuba?” the magician finally managed to ask when the teen did not respond, lowering his eyes and promptly regretted not bringing his cold cup of coffee, if only to have an excuse to fiddle with something with his hands. “From criminal investigation I presume,” he continued. This teen definitely did not go to their school, and the only other way he could think that Hakuba found acquaintances would be through his work with police, knowing the detective.

“An astute observation,” his companion commented, his eyes never leaving Kaito’s features. However he did not continue to affirm nor deny the statement.

The magician was starting to feel uncomfortable now, the stranger’s odd reactions as well as his impassive expression was sending off warning bells in his head. Perhaps the teen was another detective and that was how he looked familiar. Clearing his throat, he tried one last time to discover the man’s identity.

“I don’t think we have been introduced –“

He was cut short before he could finish his sentence, as the teen spoke his head inching to the side. “That woman on the table opposite of us.”

Kaitos’ brows twitched in slight aggravation, half confusion as his eyes darted to his side. A woman in her early twenties sat staring intently into her book with a lock of hair pinched between her thumb and index finger. She wore a blue jacket over a black top that hung low enough to give them a view of the tip of her bra and a well-endowered cleavage.

His eyes darted back to the man wondering with a growing discomfort what he was playing at. His eyes had never left Kaito’s face, and his eyes seemed to almost gleam of their own accord in the dimly-lit café. The sight sent a shiver down the magician’s spine, but whether it was of unease or curiosity he could not tell.

“What about her?” he licked his lips, his shoulders tensing with restlessness and the growing need to retreat from the situation.

His companion put an elbow on the table, making the paper crackle in protest, however he ignored them as he leaned his head on his palm. His bangs shifted slightly from the motion, but did not obscure his eyes as they glittered in an almost predatorial way.

The magician had the distinct feeling he was dealing with a bloodhound or a shark, and he would have swallowed nervously if his throat had not suddenly turned dry.

“What do you think she would look like naked.”

Kaito’s capacity for thinking froze for a fraction of a second – he had not expecting such a question to slip passed the teen’s lips. He looked entirely too prim and proper with his meticulously combed hair, and pressed and expensive suit to utter such a question. The magician’s eyes darted to the side automatically to give a second glance to the woman in question, before settling on the man sitting in front of him.

“I don’t –“ he croaked out, usually he would have replied with a perverted remark, but the entire situation was making him feel uneasy. He had a feeling he was being tested or played in a game where he was not even aware of the rules. He lowered his eyes as his cheeks flushed red – he hoped the dim light hid the reaction, as his pokerface seems to have cracked from the unfamiliar situation.

“That’s not a way to speak of a lady.”

The sound of the scraping of a chair against the floor had Kaito glance back up in surprise. The teen stood, haphazardly sweeping his documents into a bag before leaving without a word. He watched him walk away with a puzzled expression: _What an odd fella,_ he mused silently to himself before shaking his head. He was slightly happy that the stranger decided to leave on his own, despite still not being able to assert his identity.

Deciding to forget the peculiar meeting, he turned back to his screen, only to be interrupted half a minute later as Hakuba suddenly slid into the unoccupied seat adjacent to him with a strange expression. His eyes were locked towards the entrance, and his lips were quirking downwards. The tired circles around his eyes were suddenly more noticeable as the creases around his eyes were strained.

“What were the two of you conversing about?”

Kaito didn’t have to guess twice as to whom the detective meant, he craned his neck hoping to locate the stranger from outside, however he was already long gone. He turned back to gaze at Hakuba with a curious expression. If the teen had him so rattled, then this person must be either someone important or dangerous.

“Who is he?”

Hakuba ignored his question, his jaw was clenching in a way that filled the magician with unease. He had never seen the detective so anxious, and that could not bode well for him.

“Nothing,” he continued, deciding to answer. “Barely a handful of sentences. Hakuba, who is that guy –“

“Stay away from him,” the detective cut in, his voice reflecting the tension of his shoulders. “He is dangerous, you need to avoid him.”

By now, Kaito was feeling utterly baffled over being warned by the person who had considered himself to be _Kaitou KID’s_ nemesis just a week prior. It almost sounded like the detective cared about him.

He would have continued to press the subject and the name from Hakuba, had Aoko not approached them with a curious expression and with a question about something in her history book she was struggling with. He let it go for now, secretly spying on the two as Hakuba – or maybe it was Aoko – inching closer to the other as the girl leaned over the table to get a better look at the explanation the detective was writing down on a piece of paper.

Kaito felt a sting in his heart at the sight. Once upon a time he had fancied Aoko just a tiny bit, she was everything he looked for in a person. Passionate, loyal, kind-hearted and intelligent, but the feelings had changed over the two years he had been running around under the night-time persona of Kaitou KID. He had lied to her time after time, hurt her more ways than he could count. She deserved someone better than him, and he refused to drag her into anything more dangerous.

He would make sure she was safe from now on – Aoko came first, even if he did not deserve a spot in her heart.

“Kaito?”

He glanced up as she spoke to him, and the worried expression she wore indicated it was not the first time she had called his name hoping to catch his attention. With an apologetic twist of his lips, he straightened on his chair. “What is it, Aoko? I thought you said I should avoid any more distractions or I’ll never finish.”

She did not even bother to roll her eyes at the hint of a teasing tone in his voice. “Hakuba-kun is getting some more coffee, you want any?”

Kaito’s eyes darted to the side to gouge the detective’s expression, however he was standing with his shoulder to him, looking at the direction of the counter – presumable trying to see how long the queue was.

“No, I’m fine. I think I’ll head home in a wee. Too many interruptions here, hard to focus on the assignment.”

The detective gave only a short nod in response before leaving. Aoko’s cheeks flushed in a way they always did when she felt guilty. “Oh, Kaito. I’m sorry, I didn’t consider that. I just wanted you to get out of the house – you have barely left all week. I’m just worried about you.”

He lowered his eyes, guilt beating in his chest once more. “You don’t have to be worried about me, Aoko. I’m the one who’s supposed to be concerned about _you_ , you know. You are the one with a broken arm,” he groused out underneath his breath.

She harrumphed at that with gleam in her eyes that glittered with her determination. “As if, no measly explosion can stop Aoko and her mission to catch evildoers!”

His lips twitched upwards at the familiar argument, and although he could sense that she lacked the usual enthusiasm, she was simply trying to get him to react with some more passion than usual.

“Tell Hakuba to get me some more pie, I can stay for a while longer, yeah? I’ll show you a card trick I’ve been practicing.” He pulled out a deck of cards from the air that he had secretly pushed into the sleeve of his jacket while she was talking.

Aoko brightened up with a smile threatening to stretch across her face, before she managed to subdue the excitement – it was worth everything just to see her smile like that. “I bet you 100 yen I can figure out the trick –”

“I can’t take your money,” he grinned back, finally letting his shoulder relax for the first time. “Even with Hakuba on your team, you won’t be able to guess it correctly. After all, it’s not a trick. It’s magic!” He popped the lid on the package open and emptied the contents into his right palm. He turned the cards until he had the deck pinched into a _handler’s grip_.

“Yeah right, like I don’t already know half of the ones you do,” she reached out to grab hold of his hand with her left hand in order to stop him from doing a quick sleight of hand that would stop her attempt to seize the cards from him. By the time she pulled the deck from his fingers – it was slightly awkward movements as she only had one hand to do it with, there was only one card left, and she stared at it pinched behind her thumb and index finger with a befuddled expression.

Her face twisted into annoyance a moment later, as Kaito spread the deck out in a _finger fan_ with his left – and unoccupied – hand to show he had transferred the cards somehow without her noticing.

“That’s cheating,” she glared, before flickering the single card into his face. He let the card thud off his nose and his smile only widened at the soured expression on his childhood friend. He could tell she was faking most of her aggravation as there was a hint of relief glittering in her eyes.

“So, about my 100 yen –“

“Oy, oy,” Aoko interrupted with a twitch of her eyebrows. “You haven’t let me guess yet – you just assumed I don’t know what you were doing.” Before he could react, she grabbed his sleeves and started to shake them with a concentrated look. “You had two decks of cards, just hid the rest in your jacket.”

Kaito let her manhandle him towards her lest she banged her broken arm against the table in her excitement. “Wait, Aoko, let me – be careful –“ he almost knocked over an empty cup off the table, but managed to catch it before it went tumbling over the edge. “It isn’t two decks, I promise,” he tried to keep down the laughter in his voice as she finally gave up and released him as she sat down with a pout.

“Take off your jacket.”

He did not hesitate to oblige her request, and relinquished his jacket for her inspection. She pulled out a few scarfs, a set of lock-picks, a package of balloons and an inflated rubber-duck from hidden compartments, but when her examination did not discover any traces of a deck of card, her eyes settled on him again with a mistrustful expression.

“Your shirt. Remove it–“ 

Kaito’s grin flashed sharply, and he wriggled his eyebrow with a suggestive leer. “My pants too while I’m at it?” Aoko flushed darkly, but he continued before she could respond, “I’d love to oblige your request, but it’s kind of crowded in here, and I’d loath to be kicked out on the street in my underwear.” He paused for a moment, “– unless you want me to remove that also –“

She threw the jacket in his face before he could finish, but he grabbed it one handed with a playful hum. “Fine, you win this round,” the chair scrapped as she stood up on wobbly feet, “I’ll go get your pie.” She was still pouting as she turned around to seek Hakuba from the crowd. However, her shoulder had loosen and she looked more at ease and happy as they fell back to old habits.

Kaito’s grin disappeared as he watched her retreating form and was replaced with a fond expression. If he had the choice, he would spend the rest of his life making Aoko happy – he owed her a lifetime of smiles and laugher already. He flopped back on his seat with a sigh, and his hand shook slightly as he trailed his fingers through his hair.

_God_ , he hated this: all the lies, having to deceive his best friend, using the affection of the family that had practically raised him ever since his father had died and his mother had started to travel the world, leaving him behind alone in the dark and cold house filled with nothing but painful memories. Sometimes he longed for the time before he took over the mantle of _Kaitou KID_ , when he had been a normal teenager (or at least, normal by his standards). He had now reached the point of no return – he could never go back to a life where he was not associated with the identity of the phantom thief.

Unwillingly or not, Kuroba Kaito had turned into a murderer.

He was too occupied with the dark spiralling of his thoughts, that he did not notice two strangers approaching him before their shadows obscured the light. His heart hammered in his chest on its own accord as he glanced up and recognized the gold and black badge of a police officer on the man’s belt as his jacket brushed over it.

It was a man and a woman – although Kaito did not recognize them: he was only familiar with the faces of the KID taskforce, the serious and professional expression on their faces was unmistakable. For a moment, he hoped they had made a mistake, that they had accidently stopped at his table or that they were out for a lunch-break.

The hope was crushed a moment later as the woman spoke – she had short jet-black hair, a rectangular face and wore a white dress-shirt over a light-purple shirt. The colour matched her eyes.

“Are you Kuroba Kaito?”

Kaito’s mouth opened on auto-pilot to deny it, but his tongue was too thick and glued to the roof of his mouth to move. His mouth was dry and his throat constricted as adrenaline flooded through him in a flight or fight impulse, however, even if he had wanted to run – Aoko was right there, _she couldn’t know_ – he would not have been able to as he was rooted to the chair with imaginary super-glue.

When he did not respond immediately – rather just sitting there like a deer caught in the lights from an approaching train – her eyebrow lifted, but whether it was in curiosity or more sinister speculation, he could not tell. The taller, male officer stepped in with a kind but nervous expression.

“Would you be so kind as to accompany us to the police station, you are wanted for questioning in an open case.”

The magician’s stomach dropped to the floor as an icy cold feeling spread across his insides. For a moment flashing fear of _‘they know, they know, shit, they know’_ flooded through him and made the room spin. He wanted to flee right there and then, regretted not running away while he had the chance, but he could not, that would have been the coward’s way – Aoko would never forgive him if he did.

He finally managed to swallow thickly, and his bangs fluttered forward to cover his eyes as he nodded slightly. “I – yes, of course. Just let me –“ he stood slowly to grab his backpack and packed the computer and papers into it uncaringly about whether he creased them or not, his stiff fingers certainly did not help. He stood on shaking feet and propped the bag over his shoulder, and he swallowed thickly, praying that his knees would not lock and buckle under him. He had imagined this situation for two years now – but reality did not give justice for the fear pounding in his chest. What would happen now?

“Kuroba-san?” the woman gestured for him to walk between them, and for a second he considered fleeing again from the panic soaring through him, but he kept the lid on his panic lest the officers took him for a flight-risk. That would just make the situation worse.

Kaito made to move forward, but was forced to take a step backwards instead as Aoko suddenly appeared in front of him. Although he was not facing him and could not see her facial features, he imagined the fire burning in her eyes and slop of her lips in anger as she pointed an accusing finger at the male detective.

“What do you think you are doing to Kaito-kun?”

The man shifted his weight, and he held his hands up to try to placate the girl. “We just have a few questions to ask him down at the precinct –“

“Why can’t you just ask them here,” she pressed, her voice lowering and her shoulder’s tensing as she came to his defence.

The woman’s lips tightened slightly. “We have orders to –“

“My dad is a police inspector,” Aoko cut her off again. “What are you accusing Kaito of? I have the right to ask what you are arresting him for.”

Kaito’s heart fluttered in his chest in endearment for her refusal to believe he had broken the law, he wanted to reach out and grab her arm and tell her it was alright – that they had just cause for detaining him. He did not deserve her righteous anger for him.

The officers glanced at each other with an expression that clearly told the magician that they were communicating wordlessly. There was an expression on the woman’s face which Kaito could not comprehend as her lips slopped downwards.

“The situation is – delicate,” the male officer stuttered out nervously, his eyes darting to the side to -presumably – avoid Aoko’s insistent glare.

The female detective did not look pleased at her partner, and she turned to glare right back at the girl in front of her. “Don’t make a fuzz, or we’ll come back with orders to arrest, rather than just bring your friend in for some questioning,” she warned.

Aoko might have argued right back, if Hakuba had not appeared by her side and grabbed her arm in a gentle grip. “It’s alright, I’m quite certain it is just a mistake.”

The girl’s anger subsided as she took her eyes off the officers to glance in the detective’s direction. Whatever she saw in his face, Kaito did not know, but it seemed to reassure her. She took a step back, no longer blocking the police’s view of the magician. She turned to face him, and his heart contracted in his chest at the worried expression in her eyes.

“I’ll call my dad, alright?” she spoke with a soft voice, and her hair hung into her eyes in exhausted tatters. She reached out to grab his shoulder – or maybe his chin, he could not tell – before the hand faltered and came dangling uselessly next to her hip. “I’ll fix this, just – just wait for me, alright?”

The tight smile on her lips made guilt spread ice-cold in his stomach. Still now, Aoko had full faith in him, refused to believe he could do nothing wrong. Kind, heart-warming Aoko, who cared about everyone and believed that everyone had some grains of goodness in them. He honestly did not deserve her as a best-friend – and he cursed the police for their terrible timing. Could they not have waited to arrest him till he was as far away from her as he could?

He forced a blinding smile, and he grabbed her shoulder, resisting the urge to drag her close and hug her as desperately as he could – would this be the last time Aoko looked at him with that worried and friendly expression? Would her eyes be filled with loath and disgust next time they met? The very thought was breaking his heart into thousands of tiny splinters.

“Of course, Aoko. Stop worry about me so much, you’ll get ugly wrinkles, and who’ll want to marry you then?”

The twitch on her eyebrows softened her expression, and she opened her mouth to complain about him not taking the situation serious, but before she could, he leaned closed, his voice a puff of breath on her ear as he spoke.

“Everything will be alright, I promise. Don’t be such a worry tart, just promise you won’t hate me in the end of the day,” he released the grip on her shoulder as he brushed past her and started in the direction of the exit. He ignored the presence of the police officers following in his footsteps, the burning gazes of Aoko and Hakuba drilling into his back, and the feeling of his heart thrashing in his chest as he felt the cage of the door to his freedom lock in place behind him with an ominous echo in his ears.

 


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to Addy01 for betaing.
> 
> Next chapter won’t be up before the end of September, as I’m going on a month long excavation and won’t have access to computers or internet. Sorry for the inconvenience.
> 
> Published: 24.08.2017  
> Wordcount: 7.2K

Behind the two-way mirror, Kuroba Kaito was slouching on a chair. His feet was propped on the metal table, and hands shackled in handcuffs to the bench. His blue-shirt was creased and rumpled, as if he had thrown it on in a hurry that morning, his mop of chocolate-brown hair was in its usual, uncontrollable mess – the lack of glistening from hair-gel in the bright, artificial light shining from above him showed that it was his hair natural state, rather than some fashion-statement popular amongst the youth these days.

Kudou Shinichi watched the dishevel suspect from the observation room, his lips curled downwards in a clear sign of distaste. His heart had not stopped hammering in his chest ever since had met _Kuroba_ in the café hours earlier. There was just something about him that raised the warning bells in his head.

If he ever believed in such things, he would imagined it was faith that had lead him to meet this man who most likely – even most definitely – Kaito KID. What were the chances that he would randomly meet the one person he had been searching for in such an unexpected and inconspicuous place as a cafe? He placed a palm against the cold glass, every breath he took was buzzing with thoughts. _I’ve found you, I’ve caught you. Now, Ran can wake up knowing that she has been avenged._

He was certain, one hundred percent certain, that Kuroba Kaito was _Kaitou KID_. The evidence pointed in his direction and his direction only: testimony from Sato and Takagi, who had told him that Hakuba had been there. The blonde detective was clearly on friendly terms with Kuroba – in fact, Kuroba had confirmed the little titbit himself. This was the _Kuroba_ the Englishman had let slip that night at the hospital. It still burned him to know that his fellow detective had suspected – had known with such conviction – who Kaitou KID was, and did nothing about it.

Secondly - and most importantly – he could not read Kuroba’s mind, no matter how much he tried. He had not been actively reading the thief’s mind when the criminal sat down at his table at the café. However, when he noticed that he could not catch a single whisk of his surface thoughts, Shinichi had tried to force him to react by asking a bold question – no one could hide their thoughts from him, even if they actively tried to shield them, when caught by surprise.

He had only met one person whose thoughts he could not read – and that person was none other than Kaitou KID.

The chances that more people possessed the ability was so miniscule that the detective discarded that very thought

Kuroba was Kaitou KID, there was no question about it.

“Kuroba Kaito, eighteen years old, currently enrolled as a student at Ekoda High School, an A plus student, no previous criminal records, despite being a known prankster in school.” Takagi’s voice drifted towards him from where the officer stood by the door, reading from a manila folder clutched in his hands. “His parents are Kuroba Toichi and Chikage. The father – “

“Was a famous magician who died in an explosion ten years ago. About the same time as _Kaitou KID_ disappeared,” Shinichi finished for him, his head swimming with the information that was just revealed to him. The dots were lighting up as they connected in his head – Kuroba Toichi must have been the first Kaitou KID, and then his son took up his mantle eight years later. It was all so ridiculously obvious that he wondered why no one else had realized it before – well, expect for Hakuba Saguru, who must have made the connection too but did nothing about it.

To his left, he could hear the shuffling of fabric as Sato crossed her legs, and he could sense her confusion and reservation about making this arrest. Although she had not voiced any objections at the time when he had asked for the favour – she knew him well enough to know he never did anything on a whim – she still seemed uncertain about the whole ordeal.

“Ehm, Kudou-kun?” Takagi stopped reading from the folder to address him, “what do you intend to do? Do you have any proof of your accusation –“

“We can hold him in custody for 48 hours without charging him with a crime,” he cut in. “That would give us ample of time to find something to stick. Get a hold of Judge Fujikawa for a warrant. He owes me a favour for that scandal with that corrupt politician.”

He barely had the time to finish the sentence before the door burst open. Shinichi turned slowly to face the intruder; it was a tall man in a ruffled, brown dress-jacket. Half of his moustache on the right side was missing, as well as his eyebrows, and a bandage covered his neck and most of his right cheek.

A sweet scent followed at his wake, and Shinichi crunched up his nose as he recognized the smell that emitted from creams used to treat burned skin – that smell had engrained in him ever since he had stepped into Ran’s room. A second later, he remembered where he had met the man before – Inspector Nakamori Ginzo.

Nakamori’s eyes were dark and tense, as if hunting down a prey as his gaze zeroed in on the teen seated on the other side of the glass. His lips twisted downwards at the same time as he parted his lips to bellow angrily, “What is the meaning of this? Why is Kaito-kun arrested?”

Takagi stepped forward, and tried placate the raging man. “No one is being arrested; we just have a few questions for Kuroba-san regarding a case–”

“Don’t you dare lie to me,” Nakamori’s face twisted in anger, and Shinichi could clearly read the bubbling fury of: ‘ _This is all bullshit. We don’t need this right now. Aoko doesn’t need this_.’ “What crime is he suspected of?”

“He is _Kaitou KID_ ,” Shinichi answered, deciding to be blunt – he was not going to waste his time. Not this time. Not on this. “You should be thanking us instead for doing your job. And may I ask what your relationship is with our suspect if you address him with such familiarity?” He continued, uncaring for the warning signs that Nakamori’s body was showing him – if the man had not been such a bumbling fool and seen what had been right in front of him, then Ran wouldn’t have been – “surely you can’t possibly have been so blind as to not be able recognize exactly who you were dealing with –“

Before he could finish, Nakamori had rushed forward and grabbed Shinichi by the collar of his shirt. Shinichi’s heart hammered in his chest in surprise at the sudden actions, but he swallowed it down a moment later and gave the inspector a bland smile.

“Inspector –“ came Takagi’s surprised yelp behind them, but he was ignored as the two men continued to stare at each other.

The consultant had a full view of Nakamori’s displeased and angry expression. He could even feel the emotions brushing over his skin from where they were touching.

“Kaito-kun is not _Kaitou KID_ ,” Nakamori growled through clenched teeth, “he is a good and caring person. He is not a criminal.” A flood of emotions filled with fury from the Inspector made Shinichi’s skin crawl – he could feel the inspector’s growing urge to shake him violently – but the man was keeping the instinct in check for the time being. “I’m telling you, you are making a huge mistake in the wrong direction going after him –“

_‘I won’t let anything happen to Kaito, Aoko. No matter what, I promise.’_

The sudden turn of desperation made Shinichi’s mind suddenly roll back from the backlash as an uncontrollable stream of emotions and pictures flowed into him –he could see Kaito as a child, playing with a little girl. In one image, the boy was giving her a flower, in the next, the two was eating ice cream, beaming up at Nakamori, then it was replaced with an image of the boy  trying to stay strong for his mother and not cry despite the desponded face at his father’s funeral. The last was a sequence of the inspector’s own suspicion that Kaito was _Kaitou KID_ , his daughter refusal to believe it and finally a witness image to verify that the phantom thief and the teen was not the same person after all –

Shinichi was suddenly released from that chokehold of images, and he slumped against the glass-wall behind him with a gasp. The room was swimming around him, and he closed his eyes in order to not get dizzy from the vertigo brought upon that sudden intrusion. The phantom memories kept swirling in his head – Nakamori was certainly protective over the teen. However, regardless of the evidence of the contrary that the older inspector had gathered, Shinichi was well aware that it was most likely a rouse, a very convincing trick from the thief.

 _Kuroba Kaito is Kaitou KID_ , he mumbled silently to himself, trying to distract himself from Nakamori’s thoughts and feelings. It took him a few moments to regain his stance, and by the time he felt strong enough to open his eyes, he was met with the sight of Takagi restraining the inspector’s arms and a displeased Megure with his back towards him, standing almost protectively in front of the him, facing down Nakamori.

Shinichi realized the man must have stepped in and forced Nakamori away from him, and he felt gratitude blossoming in his chest - Megure knew him well enough to know how much he struggled with physical contact.

“What do you think you are doing, Inspector Nakamori? We allowed you access to our department as a courtesy – not for you to assault one of my consultant. Kudou Shinichi-kun is a valuable asset to my team,” there was a silent threat underneath his tone of voice - the underlying warning was evident if the inspector tried to take a single more step towards Shinichi.

Nakamori must have realized the predicament he was in, and he suddenly drooped over as if in exhaustion – if Takagi had not been holding his weight, he would have slumped down to the floor. There was a flash of regret in his eyes for his rash actions: ‘ _I shouldn’t make things worse – dammit. What …what am I doing?’_

“How are you feeling, Kudou-kun? Are you alright –“

“I’m fine, _Keibu_ ,” Shinichi straightened his jacket to flatten out the wrinkles that had formed during the altercation. His eyes fixated on Nakamori: the man now looked just plain exhausted now that most of the anger had drained away. His hair laying heavy in tired fringes and his gazed landed on the teen waiting on the other side of the window with a guilty expression.

Shinichi felt a twinge of sympathy – the man was just trying to protect Kuroba, - his surrogate son if the images were to be trusted - however misplaced the loyalty was. He immediately squashed the feeling a moment later, he was on the side of justice: Kaitou KID had to pay for his actions. Nakamori would understand. Surely he would, once the man realised what a menace KID was.

“Why don’t you explain what exactly is going on, Kudou-kun?” Megure turned to face Shinichi, curiosity shinning in his eyes, indicated he was just as interested to know.

“Kuroba Kaito – the man currently in custody – is the infamous phantom thief _Kaitou KID._ ”

Surprise flickered across the inspector’s face, before a flood of sympathy waved towards Shinichi. Megure knew how much Ran meant to him, and he nodded slowly to ingest the information. The inspect knew where Shinichi was coming from and trusted his abilities, his judgement – but even so, the inspector knew that he had to do his job. “Do you have sufficient evidence?”

Shinichi faltered for a moment, before shaking his head slightly – he disliked the thought of approaching the man who had been a father figure to him for years without proof for the first time in his life, but he hoped the man would understand. The consultant would never accuse anyone without being one hundred percent certain.

“Nothing substantial, but I was hoping to acquire a warrant to search his house –“

_‘Poor Kudou, he must be distraught and wanting revenge with Ran-kun in the hospital. I hope he’s right about the suspect, it would reflect poorly on the police if we started accusing people left and right on the word of someone out for vengeance - .’_

Shinichi froze as the thought brushed against him – he could not pin point the direction it came from – he had not been paying attention. It made him clench his fists.

“Half a dozen people have already come forward confessing to be _Kaitou KID_ ,” Nakamori spoke up. “With the amount of investigations and work for the police, the lack of evidence, and only the word of a consultant, I doubt any judge will sign on a warrant.”

Nakamouri’s relief at that conclusion set Shinichi’s teeth on edge, especially when he felt the stream of sympathy from the rest of the occupants from the room. They knew that the inspector was right, it was all hands on deck due to the explosion –

“At least give me 48 hours to prove it, Megure-Keibu,” he tried to sound firm, tried not to sound as though he was begging. His heart hammered against his chest, He would not lose his quarry, not now – not when he had _KID_ just where he wanted him.

“I didn’t bring with me a lawyer, but I will contact one if I have too,” Nakamori pressed on as he shook away Takagi’s grip on his arm and stood on his own. All the signs of exhaustion had evaporated from his face and his lips had thinned, making him looking like the professional police inspector he was and turned towards Megure. “You have no cause for this arrest, so why don’t we just save time for everyone, and release Kaito-kun right now. Your consultant has caused enough emotional distress already with this unsupported accusation.”

Megure glanced at Shinichi’s direction, and the teen held his breath. Nakamori had a good point. Just Shinichi’s word for it was not good enough – it would definitely not hold up in court. However, he knew it from the bottom of his heart that Kuroba was the culprit, and that menace needed to pay. If he was given a fraction of a chance, he knew he could prove it – would prove it for Ran-.

“You are right, we have no justified cause to keep him. You may take your boy home with you –“

“ _Keibu_ , you can’t –“ Shinichi took a step forward, his lips parting to object the decision. His heart was racing in his chest and anger bubbled in his chest. However he got no chance to speak, as Megure suddenly hissed at him to be quiet. His heart dropping, his step faltered in surprise. As long as they’d been acquainted, the older inspector had not never shown signs of distrust at him, at his ability-

There was a flash of regret on Megure’s face – enough to tell Shinichi without having to read his though that the man thought he was doing it for Shinchi’s own good. ‘ _I’m sorry Shinichi-kun, but this isn’t the time nor the place. If you truly believe Kuroba Kaito is the culprit, then I’m sure you can prove it. But not like this. Never like this. You understand?’_

Shinichi’s shoulders dropped as he took it all in and he evaded the inspector’s gaze, letting his eyes settle on the teen on the other side of the mirror instead. Logically, he knew the inspector was correct. Shinichi had acted rashly: he never acted rashly. However this whole ordeal was setting his teeth on edge, setting him off with a feeling of urgency – with the need to swiftly bring the perpetrator of Ran’s current condition to justice. Due to his emotions, he had made a mistake, a rookie mistake, and the thief was able to walk free.

He barely managed to force himself to give a short nod to agree with the verdict.

Looking pleased with the consultant agreement, Megure addressed Nakamori again. “We apologize for the emotional distress we have accidently caused –“

“Apology accepted, everyone’s emotions are running high due to what happened,” he responded, not unkindly with relief and understanding, before giving a last glance towards Shinichi before leaving.

Shinichi did not watch him leave; the disappointment was too heavy in his chest. The childish part of him wanted to feel betrayed by Megure’s decision – had Shinichi not given everything to solve cases for the police? Had he not always been correct with his deductions and always pinpointed the correct culprit? His mouth felt ashen as the angry thoughts swirled in his thoughts – shouldn’t the police not owe him just a fraction of a doubt, even if he was just a teen and technically only a consultant.

“Kudou-kun,” Sato finally spoke for the first time, her voice low but filled with righteous anger. “We’ll catch the culprit responsible, I promise.”

Shinichi nodded a silent agreement – he would catch Kaitou KID – no matter the cost. Ran deserved to be avenged, he had tried working with the police, perhaps it was time to try a different approach.

With clenched teeth, he watched the door to the cell open and Kuroba Kaito straightening up – for a second Shinichi could have sworn he had seen fear reflected in his eyes, before an impassive mask settled over his features.

Shinichi turned his back to the glass and left the room wordlessly, he could feel the burning gazes’ from Sato and Megure as he left departed. A wistful and sad thought followed in his footsteps as the door fell shut behind him.

_‘Please don’t do anything rash, Shinichi.’_

_…_

Despite his calm exterior, Kuroba Kaito could not help the increasing panic and uncertainty that only amplified as the minutes turned to hours. He knew well that letting criminals stew in the interrogation room for a long while was a devious police interrogation tactic – he learnt as much with a police inspector as his neighbour. However, he could not help but to fall for it as guilt was gnawing in his stomach.

He wondered how it all go when they would finally grace him with their presence: _would he be met with a good cop – bad cop scenario? Would they skirt around the subject? Should Kaito deny everything or tell the truth? Would they send Nakamori Ginzo in to talk to him, seeing as he was the inspector in charge of the KID taskforce? Would it be easier to tell the truth to him or would he rather talk to a stranger?_

He did not have an answer to any of these questions, and that made him even more nervous as the seconds ticked by. His skin itched with restless need for something to happen, and every few minutes he would rattle the chain of the handcuffs, the metal biting into his bare skin. The slight pain was enough to subdue the panic bubbling just underneath the surface for a tiny bit longer – and hopefully long enough that he would not do anything stupid and irreparable.

Sometimes, he could have sworn he could feel someone eyeing him with a burning gaze from the other side of the one-way mirror. His eyes scaled the window, searching for any signs of hidden camera or hole or something to prove his suspicions. However, he could never find any clue that proved exactly what was going on. The room he was occupying was tediously boring, and he kind of wished someone had bothered to decorate it just to get a moment respite from the age-old bleakness of the walls.

Kaito had no idea how long he had resided in the small cell of a room when the door finally opened – it could have been a day, or just a few hours. Immediately, he straightened in his chair and propped his feet off the table to look slightly more respectable. His heart was hammering against his chest like a rabbit on the run when he saw who came in, and for a moment he wished he could go back to the boredom of having to wait for the verdict.

The familiar figurine of Nakamori Ginzo was the first person Kaito spotted, and his stomach clenched in guilt. The inspector had sever burn-marks from the explosion – the scars would never heal properly. His eyes looked drained and tired as he spotted the magician, but he turned away from Kaito a moment later, barking at someone standing behind him.

“Why is he handcuffed to the table?”

“K-kudou-kun believed the suspect to be a flight risk–“ started a stuttering reply, but Nakamori cut him off with an angry grumble.

“Well, see to it to release him from those shackles immediately. I can’t imagine it being comfortable.”

The male police officer who had been there to escort Kaito to the precinct stepped into the room, and the magician’s thoughts churned in confusion. He tried meeting the inspector in the eye, but his tongue had turned to lead in his mouth from the remains of fear in his system. Was this just a start of the ‘good cop, bad cop’ play? He wondered, not letting himself hope that Nakamori had arrived to set him free.

He lifted his hands wordlessly as the officer unlocked the cuffs and they fell from his wrists with a clutter on the table. His eyes followed their descent, before darting back to gouge Nakamori’s features for a clue as to what happ ened next, holding his breath as he did.

“Let’s go home, Kaito,” the inspector said with an authoritative yet gentle voice, before his head turning towards the one-way mirror with an angry expression. However, Kaito could tell he was drained and exhausted.

The magician did not have to be told twice as he stood quickly – he had no idea what was going on, but he was not going to look a gift-horse in the mouth. He forced a smile as he slipped past the police officer.

“Thanks for your hospitality.”

Nakamori held the door open for him, and Kaito stepped into the corridor. He had to blink twice to get used to the dimly lit hallway – at least it felt darker in comparison to the bright artificial light in the interrogation room. A few people loitered in the end of the corridor. Kaito was almost expecting it to be an ambush, but when nothing happened, he let out a relieved sigh.

“This way,” the inspector said, and now even his voice was subdued, it was a clear reflection of his exhaustion. Their trek through the police station was done mostly in silence except for a few low spoken words as Kaito retrieved his backpack and jacket from custody after signing under a few papers. By the time they stepped out of the building, the day had grown dark.

He inhaled the fresh air hungrily – a part of him had imagined he would never have the chance to do so again. He was still wondering what was going on, was he not to be charged with a crime? Was it ethically right for him not wanting to receive the punishment for his actions? His stomach dropped again at the thought – if he was in jail, then who would find Pandora and destroy it before Snake and his syndicate could use the gem for nefarious reasons?

On one hand, his continuous freedom could make up for his mistakes – and he owed Aoko everything – but on the other, what could possibly make things better? In a utilitarian world, he could most likely make a calculation of which actions would give more pain or more happiness to the most amount of people. Destroying Pandora could in the long run save humanity, but the family and friends of the ones that had died to due to him would not find peace knowing they would not be revenged.

He shook his head a moment later and dragged a trembling hand through his hair. Trying to create logic of the grief he had caused was not right – he could not live by the rules of consequentialism simply because it was emotionally easier and clearer, and he was already far outside the reaches of even considering following a deontological world-view like Hakuba seemed to favour – he had stepped past that when he decided to accept the mantle and responsibilities of being _Kaitou KID._

Panic laughter suddenly bubbled in his throat at the idea, he had almost, just _almost_ accepted having the choices taken away from him when the police had escorted him to the station hours earlier. Only to be released and once more be kept accountable to no one but his own personal moral imperative.

Lady Luck was one cruel mistress.

“Kaito-kun?”

The magician looked up in surprise as Nakamori addressed him; he had not noticed that they had arrived to the inspector’s car. With a smile that felt bland rather than reassuring to the worried tone from a man that had practically raised him after Kaito’s father had died, he opened the car door and slipped into the seat. He pushed the door close with more power than anticipated, and the sound echoed almost resentfully in the small space.

“How are you feeling? The officer’s weren’t –“s

“I’m alright,” Kaito cut in, his voice softer then intended. “They mostly just left me alone. It was rather boring, they wouldn’t even let me bring with me a deck of cards to keep my busy,” he tried with a lighter tone, forcing his pokerface in place. He did not know what Nakamori had done for him earlier to get him released from custody prematurely – they did have the right to keep him for 48 hours he knew. The only favour he could give back was to make sure the inspector was not worried about him.

The inspector eyed at him for a silent moment. Kaito did not know what he saw in his face, however he started the car a moment later. Now that the worry and tension had drained from his shoulder, the magician felt exhausted and he leaned his head against the window. The slight vibration made his teeth clatter, but he did not care as his eyelids started to dip.

He might have fallen asleep, had Nakamori not started to talk again.

“I know you are a fan of _Kaitou KID_ ,” the inspector started, and Kaito sat up in his chair again to face him with his heart suddenly beating in his heart in surprise. “I just want you to know he’s not a bad person despite being a criminal. The news seems to disagree on whether or not _KID_ should be held responsible for what happened, or to be exonerated.”

The hammering in his chest turned into a flutter at the man’s word – he had never imagined Nakamori would ever say anything _nice_ about him. And for a moment, Kaito imagined the words were spoken to him personally, and not about the phantom thief.

“His actions might be immoral, but he is still just a person underneath the disguise and magic. I know him, I’ve been chasing him for nearly twenty years, _KID_ is probably out there in the city right now feeling distraught and guilty.”

Kaito’s mouth formed a question, and before he was conscious aware of it, the words had already spilt from his mouth. “Do you think _KID_ should give himself up to the police?”

Nakamori’s eyes darted towards the teen for a second, before settling back to the street. “He should be held accountable for his past crimes. Too many innocent people are being accused and persecuted for nothing.”

He did not say anything else on the topic, and the magician did not push it. Silence settled once more in the car, however this time it felt less oppressive as Kaito’s thoughts were too occupied trying to absorb the information – and for a moment he wondered if the inspector _knew_ , and was silently trying to nudge him to do the right thing, but had decided not to pursue the issue – that he trusted Kaito to do the right thing.

There was a second problem that was bothering him and had kept his mind busy the last few hours – the teen at the café. He felt as though he should know this person. The officer who had unshackled his handcuffs had mentioned a name –

“Exactly who is ‘Kudou-kun’?”

Nakamori’s reaction came immediately in the form of a displeased frown on his lips and the clenching of his fingers around the wheel. He took a deep breath, before answering with a mixture of anger and admiration in his tone of voice. “Kudou Shinichi is a police consultant – a nosy brat like Hakuba, sticking his nose into things he has no business doing at his young age,” he hesitated for a moment, before continuing, “I only worked with him twice, but he did not seem interest in catching _Kaitou KID_ despite being ruthlessly effective. Do you remember that clock-heist two years ago when someone shot at KID from a helicopter? That was him.”

Kaito’s stomach dropped at the same time as his heart started fluttering widely, “that maniac was _him?_ ” he stuttered before he could stop himself. He remembered that heist with vivid details, if he had not thought quickly on his feet, he could have gotten into some problems. At least he could put a name to the face now – he had only ever seen him from afar.

Nakamori gave a displeased sound in affirmation. “There are some nonsense rumours that he can read minds, but that’s only some superstition caused by astute observations skills. Some people just can’t comprehend that some individuals are scary intelligent.”

The magician’s lips curled upwards in humour, he knew well the power of gossips. “Like the belief that KID have real magical abilities?”

The inspector snorted, but agreed on the comparison. “The public tend to be idiots, and it doesn’t help that popular magazines live on spreading false rumours. Should be arrested the lot of them for distribution misinformation.”

“I didn’t know you were following such a moral absolutistic world view,” Kaito responded teasingly, and Nakamori grumbled in reply.

“The world is unfortunately not that white and grey.”

Kaito’s smile slipped off his lips and the humour subsided as he avoided his gaze automatically in embarrassment. Ginzo was a good man, he might be stuck in his world view, but Kaito respected him more than he felt comfortable to show. It was nice, knowing that such good people as Aoko and his father existed – it made working in the shadows to take down a criminal syndicate easier.

“Say, Kaito-kun,” Nakamori changed the topic with a lighter tone of voice, “Aoko is making a late dinner today, she did not want to start until I could give her any concrete information about your well-being. I’m sure she’ll be relieved to know you were falsely accused. Why don’t you come over at 9 for a proper meal?”

This time, Kaito’s heart fluttered in gratitude and adoration – the inspector was giving him a chance to decline if he did not feel up to it, and also some time on his own to collect his thoughts to be ready to face the girl. He appreciated the consideration greatly. “I’d love to; I’m sure Aoko has been worried and wants to berate me herself.”

Nakamori grinned slightly. “I wouldn’t put anything past her, she’s just like her mother.” He backed the car into the drive-way, and Kaito noticed with surprise they were already there – the time had sure flown.

Grabbing his bag, he opened the door and slipped out of the car. He swung the backpack on his shoulder before waving a goodbye to the inspector with a promise of being there in an hour. From within the house, he could see a figurine moving on the second floor. For a moment, he considered texting her to let her know he was alright, however he was feeling too drained to deal with that for the moment. He just wanted to sink into his bed for a few minutes.

He fumbled with the key to the front door – normally his hands were steady in every situation, so it was a clear indication of how tired he felt. He unlocked the door and pushed it open. What met him was the sight of a dark gaping hole as he had turned off all the lights before leaving hours earlier.

Stepping in, he reached out and turned the lights on – he had secretly been hoping his mother had decided to visit him again, but it was a pointless wish. She was half across the world. He shrugged off his jacket and kicked off his shoes before stepping into the hallway. The artificial light bounced off the many family pictures covering the walls, however he did not give them a second glance as he stepped past the kitchen. He stopped in the doorway for a moment as his stomach grumbled to remind him that he had not eaten anything for hours – he had never gotten to eat that slice of pie.

He discarded the half-formed desire of grabbing an apple from the fruit-bowl on the table – he would rather keep his appetite for Aoko’s cooking. Continuing down the corridor, he climbed the stairs to the second floor where he used the bathroom. By the sink, he splashed some water in his face, both to keep himself looking more alive and to wash away the disinfected smell of the police station.

“You look like a mess,” Kaito told his reflection in the mirror, before poking his chin and pinched the skin around his eyes between his thumb and index finger with a displeased hum. He released a second later and grabbed the closest towel and started to rub his face a little harder than necessary.

He reached out to put the cloth back on the hook, but he miscalculated, as it fell into a heap on the floor after a second of letting go. He stared at it for a silent moment, before clicking the lights off, feeling too lethargic to pick it up – he could deal with it later.

Kaito’s bedroom was the second door to the left, and he pushed the door open and reached out to his left for the light switch in a habit, only to come to an abrupt stop as every muscle in his body tensed up. He was not alone – there was misplaced shadow within the room, but the damned light at his back had turned him blind to the darkness.

Adrenaline flooded through him at the signs of him not being alone. For a moment, his thoughts were overwhelmed with the fear of _Snake found me, he’s going to shoot me. I failed my mission, oh god, don’t let Aoko find my dead body._

When several seconds ticked by, and nothing happened – no movement from within the room or any gunshots ringing out, his panic subsided a fraction. If someone had wanted to kill him, he would already be dead. Swallowing thickly, he forced his tongue to move, and he was silently pleased that his voice held strong.

“You are trespassing on private property, I should call the police and have you arrested.”

Kaito did not expect the hollow laughter that accompanied his warning, and his heart oddly enough fluttered in surprise at the sound rather than hammering in fear.

“The irony of a criminal using the law to his advantage,” came the mocking reply, and Kaito recognized the voice immediately as he reached out to turn the lights on. Artificial lights brighten the room immediately to reveal the intruder – it was none other than Kudou Shinichi. He sat on the magician’s office-chair with legs crossed and his hands resting on his knees. He was not facing Kaito, rather he was staring straight at the painting of Tochi on the wall.

Kaito clenched his teeth, but kept a cool exterior, hiding the racing of his heart. Kudou looked too much at home in his room – and he wondered silently how long he had been here while the magician had been in custody. Nothing looked out of place, but he still had the growing suspicion that the detective had ransacked the place regardless.

“Feel free to call the police, it will give me permission to look through the crime scene thoroughly. I have probable cause for being here, I heard someone calling for help – I’m sure if we look close enough we’ll find a hidden compartment somewhere,” Kudou’s eyes finally flickered in Kaito’s direction, and his eyes were just as he remembered them. Hard as steel from burning resolve and determination that kept the magician rooted to the floor from just a glance.

When Kaito did not say anything or move – he would not been able to even if he had tried as blood throbbed in his ears and his tongue was filled with lead – Kudou turned the chair to face him properly. From a pocket, he withdrew a silvery item that was about as long as his palm and the thickness of two fingers. He placed the item in front of him, and it took Kaito several second to recognize what it was –

“I’m recording our conversation, I hope you don’t mind,” Kudou’s voice did not waver once as it came out smooth and calm. The only indication of the seriousness of the transpiring event, was the ablaze burning of his eyes.

“Any information gathered in this way will be inadmissible by the court,” the magician finally managed to say, his gaze locked on the small device.

“Perhaps,” came the cryptical reply, and Kaito had to once more resist the urge to fidget.

He was feeling increasingly uncomfortable in the detective’s presence – and his thoughts suddenly flashed back to what Nakamori had told him in the car, that there were rumours circling that Kudou had telepathic abilities. Now that he was being scrutinized, he could imagine why someone would believe so. It felt as though the detective was staring straight through him and was examining Kaito’s bare soul.

For a fraction of a second, he started to think loudly: _don’t read my thoughts, I’m not thinking anything, this is cheating, don’t think about anything_.

Kudou did not give any indication that he was reading Kaito’s thoughts, and the magician felt foolish for falling for the rouse.

“It was ridiculously easy to discover your secret,” the detective continued, seemingly unaware of Kaito’s inner turmoil. “Your father, Kuroba Toichi was the last Kaitou KID. He died at the same time as KID disappeared ten years ago. Then, you decided to take up his night-time persona for whatever reason. I’ve never put much stock on psychology, although I assume it’s from some sort of a Father Complex – some foolish desire of wanting to following in his footsteps to be closer to him –“

“Stop it,” the magician growled low in his throat, his mouth had started to taste ashen. His father had always been a sore spot, and he did not care to listen to some second-rate detective talk about something he did not know or understand. “Why don’t you just tell me what you came her for, or better yet, why don’t you just get your arse out of my house.”

Kudou suddenly stood from the chair, and for the first time today, his face showed an emotion that was not a controlled calmness. Instead, his face was twisted into a furious expression, and his hands seems to twitch with a growing urge to grab the magician, or perhaps hit him – Kaito could not tell which. “I’m here as a courtesy: turn yourself into the police, or trust me, I will turn your life into a living hell.”

Swallowing, Kaito evaded his gaze. Guilt started to pump through his vein, and his mouth started to move on its own accord in self-defence. “You have the wrong person, _Detective-kun_. I have committed no crimes worthy of arrest. And may I remind you that our conversation is being recorded: it would be unfortunate if it was used as evidence of harassment from a police officer.”

Kudou’s face turned cold and lifeless at the silent threat – and Kaito felt a twinge of regret for it, the detective was simply doing what he believed was justified to do for the sake of righteousness. He did not say anything for a quiet moment, simply stared at the magician with a scrutinizing expression.

“You feel no remorse nor responsibility for your actions, do you? Just another sociopath searching for your next thrill, either by stealing or messing with people’s head, uncaring if anyone gets hurt,” there was a tension in Kudou’s jaw as he clinched his teeth. “Despicable, you are just a criminal and a menace. I will find evidence and capture you, that is a promise – people like you don’t deserve to be born with freedom of choice if all you do is hurt and destroy everything around, indifferent to the pain you cause.”

Kaito was frozen to his spot, coldness spreading in his stomach at the accusation. He wanted to defend himself, open his mouth and yell that _of course he cared, he cried himself to sleep every night with indecision and guilt._ The assumption that he did not cut deep into his heart, that someone could possibly believe he would not be distraught over what had happened, it made him nauseous and sick to his stomach.

Kudou picked up the recorder and put it back into the pocket of his jeans, before stepping past Kaito. The magician moved out of the way, but followed him with his eyes with thoughts swirling too fast in his head and making him dizzy. The detective turned around in the doorway, and for a moment he almost looked vulnerable as he looked like he wanted to add something. The expression evaporated a second later and he was gone.

Kaito sagged into his bed with a shaking inhale of breath. His heart was hammering painfully in his chest, he felt as though he was stuck between fire and smoke. How had things turned into this mess? He had only taken up the mantle of Kaitou KID in order to avenge his father’s death – and it was clear from the expression on Kudou’s face that he too was after vengeance. How could Kaito deny him the same opportunity. No matter what choice he took from here on out, no one would come out of this unscathed.

He only let himself wallow in self-piety for a few minutes, before getting to his feet. Aoko was waiting for him, and he would not have her worry over him. First, he needed to comb his house for listening devices planted by the detective, and then try figuring out how he had broken into the house and make sure no one else managed to do so again.

With that settled, and a new resolve, he started on his task. All the while worrying and trying to let the panic and guilt from overwhelming him.

 

 

 

 


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Despite this chapter have been done for weeks, my life has been too hectic to find a breathing room to actually editing it properly. I’m sorry for the delay, however next chapter is going to be late as well.
> 
> Special thanks to Addy01 for taking a page of her own hectic schedule to beta for me again.
> 
> Wordcount: ca. 7.2K
> 
> Published: 14.10.17

 

The street had started to fill with piles of snow that clung onto trousers as people were forced to walk through it, and the chill winter wind threatened to blow away hats and other garments not firmly secured in place. The sky had started to brighten as the morning crept in, however, it was still dark enough that the streetlights were still lit.

Next to him, Aoko shivered as a gust of wind ruffled through her clothing and made her scarf flutter behind her. “Goddammit,” she swore underneath her breath as she pulled on the hood of her bright-purple winter jacket just in time before it could blow off her head. “I’m so ready for spring.”

Trudging next to her, ignoring her muttering and the fact that his shoes were already soaking wet with as each step left his socks squawking in protest. Kaito took, yet again, another glance behind him, just like had had been doing every few minutes since they left their neighbourhood. They were being followed again – he was sure of it. A chill, this time not caused by the winter cold, raked down his spine as he felt a burning gaze locate him from the crowd. He tried to discretely scour the street for any sign of their stalker, however he was not having any luck so far.

…Though he had a pretty good idea who their pursuer was.

“It’s barely November,” the magician finally responded, turning back to address his companion after giving up on his search.

Aoko’s cheeks and nose were bright red, and every breath exhaled came in the form of a frosty vapor. “I don’t care, it shouldn’t be so cold this time a year regardless,” she puffed her cheek up in annoyance, and Kaito could not help the surge of endearment warming him at the sight of her.

“We’ll be at school soon, should be marginally warmer there –“ he started in order to appease the grumpy girl, but she cut him off before he could finish.

“I don’t know what’s worse – having to walk outside in this cold, or school.”

A grin twitched in the corner of his lips. “We can always skip,” he suggested with a teasing hum – at least he was not the only one not excited at the prospect of sitting in class all day. “We could go to the movies, or Tropical Island for some blast –“

“I’m not going to an outdoor amusement park when it’s in minus degrees,” her eyes flickered towards him with a lifted eyebrow in disbelief. “A ride will turn us into popsicles in seconds.”

He nodded at her reasoning, “Alright, fair point. Movies then?”

Aoko shoved his shoulder, and he pretended to lose his footings as he staggered off the sidewalk. Behind him, she yelped as she reached out to grab his arm before he could “tumble” into the wet snow that had piled at the sidewalk. She could not reach him in time, though he made sure to not fall completely onto the snow, merely wetting his trousers as he fell onto his knees. The mixture of surprise, guilt and aggravation on Aoko’s face (anything other than the worry that she had been wearing since the fiasco at the police station) was worth getting part of his pants soaked – however he was sure he would regret it later when he was forced to sit still for hours in a classroom later on.

Aoko’s pursed her lips at his antics. “I’m not going to skip school, _Bakaito,”_ she groused before continue walking with an air of annoyance.

The magician pushed himself to his feet before he followed her with quick steps. He quickly caught up with her – she had not been walking fast, expecting him to catch up. They shared a look, their lips threatening to crack into a smile and eyes glittered with amusement that she had never been able to hide from him– a look that told him that, despite his silly actions, she would always forgive him.

The crowd thickened as they neared the school, the snow in the street were less abrasive now with the increased foot traffic trampling, it made it only slightly better to walk across. They greeted classmates and friends alike as they walked past. Hakuba Saguru met them in the courtyard, his expression calm and unmoving as his eyes flickered across the crowd with a tilt of his lips that was the only indication of his displeasure – a feature Kaito only recognized after years of teasing him as Kaitou KID and as his fellow classmate. He was leaning heavily against his cane in order to not fall on the slippery snow.

“Morning Hakuba-kun!” Aoko called out as they came into hearing distance, and the detective returned her greeting with a few octaves softer than usual.

Kaito wanted to snort at the sight of them – it was so plainly obvious that Hakuba was harbouring a crush on girl. Only Aoko had not realised that little titbit, smiling brightly as she always  did as she prodded him about his morning, and sighing in mock-jealousy at the fact that Hakuba had been driven to school by his caretaker.

“I can always come pick you up on the way to school you know, the small detour would not be an issue at all – “ the detective suggested with a hint of a smile, his lips curled with a hint of wistfulness.

The girl’s cheek flushed deeply at the offer – and Kaito wondered for a moment if Aoko harboured a little crush on the Brit herself – and she shook her head vigorously. “I couldn’t possibly! Besides, I can’t just leave Kaito to fend against the elements on his own – he’d get lost within the first five minutes. He has a dreadful sense of directions, like that time we –“

“That was _once,”_ Kaito interrupted with a soft hiss, however his cheeks did not flush with embarrassment as he did not mind the jab as he pretended to be. “I think I can find the way to school after going here for over – let’s see – twelve years?”

Hakuba’s eyes flickered between the two with a confused expression as they bickered between them in their usual affectionate manner. “Kuroba-kun could accompany us also,” he suggested further, though this time, looking as if he had bitten on a lemon.

“As if! I don’t need pity from a someone who hasn’t encountered the hardship of the real world. Walking in every element to school is a life experience that makes a man a man,” Kaito responded stoned-faced, however the seriousness of his tone cracked as Aoko started to giggle next to him.

“Stop teasing him, _Bakaito_. You are just jealous you’re in middle class, unable to afford your own private chauffeur.”  

The magician sniffed, his lips curling as he mock-frowned at his childhood friend. “Just you watch me! I’ll have three chauffeurs driving me everywhere personally.”

Aoko grinned at him, her eyes glinted in victory. “Really?  Pray tell, how the hell can you have three chauffeurs driving you around at the same time? Do they have to stop halfway through your journey to switch vehicles? Cause that doesn’t sound good for the environment –“

“Don’t be daft,” he huffed. “I’m going to request a special car that has three wheels, one in the front and in the back, and the last one in the middle so the car can break into three pieces in case some terrorist comes after me and my money.”

Aoko did not look impressed with his reasoning, and she shook her head as she looked away from him . “Sure, you do that –“ she cut herself short as she spotted Keiko arriving in the distance. She called out to her friend before disappearing into the crowd, leaving the boys behind.

Hakuba watched her go, before turning to the magician, his gaze clearly showing Kaito that the detective was wrangling over whether to take him seriously – and call for straight-jackets – or not. Kaito merely grinned at him in response – always happy for an excuse to rattle the detective.

Instead, Hakuba sighed before schooling his expression as his tone turned serious. “You are being followed.”

The magician froze for a moment, before looking around to make sure no one was listening and stood closer to the detective. “Is it the police?” he licked his lips slowly – if it was the police force, he might be in a lot of trouble.

The detective shook his head in a slow motion. “Not as an organized group, only Kudou Shinichi –“ he hesitated, . “Saying ‘only’ would be an understatement. He can be dangerous when he wants to be and he will not give up the chase until he catches you.”

Kaito’s heart stilled at the news – however he was not surprised at the revelation. He had a feeling it was the case, could still remember Kudou’s cold, hard eyes with vivid details. The magician had never been afraid in his life, but the man worried him – Hakuba was right, he was definitely dangerous. If anyone could catch Kaitou KID, it would be Kudou.

“I must apologize,” Hakuba’s voice cracked as he spoke, an uncharacteristic hint of guilt and sorrow lacing his voice, fear filled his gaze. “I am responsible for –“

“Don’t be silly,” the magician mumbled evasively. “It’s no one’s fault but mine,” guilt filling him to the brim despite him sounding nonchalant. He swallowed down thickly. It felt both wrong and odd how life continued like normal around him - people still laughed and smiled and greeted him with cheerfulness despite what he had done. He did not deserve it.

Hakuba suddenly grabbed his arm, his fingers gripped into his arm, sharp like Watson’s talons. “You do not understand. Kudou-kun is different –“

Whatever the half-Brit was going to say, his voice was drowned out by the school bell ringing in an unrelenting chime. He was forced to release Kaito’s arm, taking a step back as the mass of students started to move towards the entrance. The magician watched him for a moment, waiting for Hakuba to continue, – wondering what he had been planning to say. However, the detective only shook his head once before turning away and joining the crowd.

Kaito gritted his teeth as anger and disappointment surged within him, his heart stammering away. Why did all detectives have to be so cryptic? He arrived at his classroom a minute late, though he managed to slip into his seat unnoticed as the teacher started the daily ritual of taking attendance.

The day would have gone uneventful, had Keiko not approached him with gleaming eyes and pounced on him during lunch. “Kaito-kun,” she practically purred, her ponytails bounced as she stepped into his personal space where he had sat sloppily over his table, with a bento nestled in front of him alluringly.

“What do you want Keiko,” he responded after a second of eying her warily. Behind her, he could see Aoko glancing in their direction trying but failing to be discreet about it – and Kaito had the growing suspicion she was responsible for this. She had been so worried and attentive since his detour to the police station, barely leaving his side in case something happened. He did not like it, even if it gave him an excuse to more spend time with her and keep an eye out on her.

“I wondered if you wanted to come to a party today –“ Keiko continued with a tilt of her voice and eyes glittering behind her glasses with eagerness, clearly unbothered by his dismissive tone.

The magician tried not to stare pointedly in Aoko’s direction. He managed to catch her eyes, and he silently mouthed _‘what are you up to?’_ The only response he received was a thumb’s up, which made him want to groan inwardly.

“Yeah, sure, I’ll come,” he barely managed not to grumble. _The things he would do for her…_

“Great! I’ll send you the details,” Keiko chirped with excitement, before pouncing on to Hakuba, who had unwittingly walked into the crossfire.

Kaito shook his head, wondering what the girls were up to– perhaps some sort of gathering to cheer people up after the hardship of the past two weeks. He could not begrudge them for wanting to do so – no matter how guilty he was, knowing he was the reason behind they wanted to do it in the first place.

He had suddenly lost his appetite, even as he continue to stare at the bento-box Aoko had bought him – she had apologized with a sad smile that she had not been able to make one herself, seeing as her arm was still in a cast – he felt another punch in his gut as the reminder crashed into him. He had told her it was fine, and that she had no need to do so. He could always make – or buy – his own.

However, she had refused to listen to his reasoning with puffy cheeks and sad eyes, and he had been powerless to decline it.

Kaito removed the lid and dug in despite his lack of appetite – she would worry about him even more if he did not. and he had sworn to himself he would do everything in his power to not let her have any more reason to worry about him anymore.

…

“It’s that car again,” Aoko said absentmindedly as they stepped out of the school complex a few hours later, her eyes trained on the car parked further down the street, with lips pursed clearly unhappy at the conclusion she had reached in her mind.

Despite being surprised by the sudden declaration, Kaito managed not to flinch, before looking out from him peripheral view, trying not to make it obvious that he was staring at the inconspicuous black Toyota that Aoko was eyeing – after a moment thought, he frowned in confusion. He had never seen the car before. “What do you mean?” he licked his lips.

She glanced in his direction with a flush of embarrassment, and she pulled at the hem of her jacket in a nervous gesture. “I should have mentioned something earlier – but someone has been following you around the past few days. That’s why I’ve stuck by your side so much, in case there is some problem again and I have to call my dad for help.” She lowered her eyes and peered through her eyelashes with a remorseful expression. “I just didn’t want you to worry.”

Kaito had frozen in his steps from the revelation – he had not expected Aoko to notice anything. He had a tendency to forget how attentive to details she was when she put her mind to it, despite being  hot-headed and rashness, or oblivious about the matters of the heart. In reality, Aoko could be quite adapt when she wanted to be.

“How do you know?” he licked his lips again, his eyes focused on the vehicle in the corner of his eyes – _how had she noticed something he had not?_ He could have sworn he had never seen the car before.

“Well, it’s not the same car that’s following you. But there are awful a lot of rented cars driving around with only a lone passenger.”

He tried not to stare at her this time in disbelief – _how could she tell that the cars were a rental?_ Aoko gave him a pointed look, and he realized a second too late that he had voiced his question.

“My dad is a police officer. He taught me what he could, you know. So I can spotted them easily. There’s always the tell-tale barcodes stickers on the windshield. And Rented care usually have no dealerships markings and some even have special rental car plates,” she replied in a matter of fact, however there were no hint of pride or arrogance or aggravation over him underestimating her intelligence.

Instead, Kaito felt like an idiot for not realizing it before – his shadow had switched cars in order to not be recognized. Kudou Shinichi – if Hakuba was correct – was no amateur and yet Aoko had caught sight of him without blinking.

“I love you, Aoko. Let’s get married,” he said, half teasing and half in awe.

She rolled her eyes before sticking her tongue out at him. “As if! I’m neither willing to stick up with your nonsense for the rest of my life, nor do I want to be the cliché rom-com character who marries the neighbour-boy. You are not much of a marriage material, Kaito!”

He furrowed his eyebrows, and pretended to be offended at her words. “What are you talking about? I’m plenty of marriage material: incredibly handsome, smart and really good with my hands,” he leeched with a grin that had Aoko instantly scoffing at him. “In fact, I know the real reason why you’d decline me – you prefer girls, don’t you?”

She puffed her cheek at his accusation, and for a moment he could clearly see she was struggling with the impulse to sock him before retorting. “No, it’s because you are infuriatingly annoying. You know what, just for that, I’m walking home without you.” and she hasten her steps at that, leaving him behind in a flash.

Kaito did not miss a beat as he hollered after her, “How am I going to find my way home then?” following up from her teasing in the morning, “You know how dreadful my sense of direction is.”

“Good! Get lost and stay there,” she growled in response, trudging through the snow unrelentingly in her pace.

“Fine!” he called after her with a goofy expression. Aoko and he might act like children most of the time, however it was an interaction that suited them best. It was how they showed their affection to one another, rather than being opened about it. “I’ll just go ask the guy in the rental-car to drive me home. I bet he knows the way,” he turned on his heel and started down the street in the direction of the vehicle.

Behind him, he could hear Aoko’s voice rise a few octaves in worry. “No, wait! Kaito, don’t –“

He ignored her as he stepped into the road, and the driver must have realized his intention and that his cover had been blown, as the engine started and the car was long gone before he could cross the street. Kaito barely managed to see the silhouette of the person through the tinted glass as the vehicle drew by – he could not make out who it was, whether it was Kudou, a police officer, or someone else entirely.

He also realized Aoko had been right about it being a rental. He managed to spot it before the car sped of –  on the passenger window, was a small barcode nestled in the corner like a neon-blinking sign. His heart was hammering in his chest as the panic rose within him– he needed to be even more careful and alert if he wanted to keep his promise to Aoko – that he was not going anywhere, nor would he be caught.

He would have spiralled into anxiety of the thoughts, had he not staggered a moment later as something hard and wet impacted into his back. He froze in surprise for a moment as the slouch of ice rattled against his ears. The ice-cold water trickled down his neck and sent a shiver raking down his spine. He dropped to his knees and swept up a bundle of snow.

“I’ll get you for that, Aoko,” he growled as he turned to return the favour. The girl giggled as she ducked behind some students passing by. The next few minutes turned into a chaos of screaming teenagers, children, a dog and lots of snow.

…

It was snowing again: the ice crystals falling slowly to cover the city like a blanket. The wind was almost still now, and the lights from the street lamp reflecting off the white sheets on the ground made the night seem brighter than usual. Despite the early evening and the cold weather, people were still milling around the streets below – and though Kaito could only find it in himself to be relieved at the fact that he was inside where there was only warmth enveloping him.

They had chosen to be at Keiko’s apartment to host the gathering – her parents were away, and so she had decided to invite some classmates and friends over. It was a small yet cosy flat on the second floor, with three bedrooms, one bathroom, a kitchen and a roomy living room. There was no balcony, so three or four people ventured outside of the apartment complex every now and again to lit a cigarette.

The chatter of his fellow-classmates waved over him, lulling his mind as his eyelids started to dip. It had been a long day, and with his belly full of the pizza Aoko and Keiko had ordered, he would have fallen asleep on an armchair by the window where he had been perching on for the better part of the night, if not for-

“What’s your plan for next year?” the question from the room floated to his earshot, but Kaito was too lazy to follow the conversation to pin point the speaker. “In a few, short months, we will all have to enrol to a university.”

“I want to become a teacher,” Keiko responded just as she arrived from the kitchen with glasses of soda clutched in her hands. She looked bright eyed as she did, and her ponytails bounced marginally in excitement as she shared her passion with the class even as the glasses remained steady in her hands. “I’ve always wanted to teach –“

Kaito looked away in disinterest – not because he did not care – but his skin was prickling and he felt a restlessness settle into his bones as he shifted position every few moments. He had a distinct feeling that someone was observing him, but no matter how much he stared out of the window, he could not spot anyone suspicious from the crowd. He had checked the cars driving by, looking for signs that hinted to the rental cars as Aoko had suspected – but nothing seemed amiss.

Unfortunately, while the magician might be many things, he was not a detective.

“How about you, Kaito?” Aoko spoke softly from her the couch where she had settled down after the pizza, her eyelids low and worry. She must have noticed his distraction, and as he watched, she sat up a little to tug on the white sling back on her shoulder. She was more messily dressed than usual, her denim jacket unbuttoned and hung on her shoulders where they drooped too large for her frame, and her yellow t-shirt were wrinkled were she kept scratching on her bandaged hand. 

“Clown school, I bet!” grinned Toma Satoru – a fellow classmate – from across the room. Answering snickers spread through the room at that, and eyes zeroed in on him, expectations shinning in their eyes as they awaited his response.

With his elbow on the arms of the chair, he leaned his cheek into the palm of his right hand, looking at them through the fringes of his eye lashes. A smile curled on his lips, his affections for his classmates grew as he savoured the fact that his classmates still view him as they always have been – fun-loving and always trying to put a smile of everyone’s face – even as guilt came crashed down on him at that lie that he had portrayed to them. He had after all, merely a few weeks back, drown himself with so much blood that he could never hope to ever be clean again –

“Clown school, me? As if. I’m already perfectly certifiable to teach in that subject,” he grinned back – knowing they were fully expecting something along this line from him. “Maybe I’ll become an astronaut – the first astronaut-slash-magician in the world!”

The responding laughter came as expected, and he leaned further back in his chair as the same question was posed to someone else. From the corner of his eyes, he noticed Aoko was frowning at him with a concerned expression.

He evaded her eyes, not desiring to see how much he was failing in his mission not to make her worry about him. Truthfully, he really had no idea what he really wanted to do once high school was over – he had considered studying engineering or something to do with aero-mechanic. One of the parts he loved about being Kaitou KID was flying, feeling of the wind rushing underneath him as he soared through the sky.

But now? With Kudou Shinichi on his trails, he was unsure whether he would even live to see the end of the school year as a freeman.

With the detective back on his mind, his eyes travelled back to stare through the window to the streets below. He shivered as he felt a phantom gaze prickling the back of his mind. But again, he could not find the culprit even though he was certain now that somewhere out there, a certain sleuth was on his tail.

His concentration broke as the front door of the apartment slammed shut, and he suddenly stood from his chair with his heart hammering in his chest in surprise from sudden realization. He stepped out of the living room – ignoring the curious expression from Aoko burrowing into his back as he did – grabbed his jacket and practically ran down the stairs.

Toma Satoru stared up in surprise as Kaito almost bumped into him at the end of the stairs. “I didn’t know you smoked, Kuroba,” he hummed with curl of his lips. “Fancy a fag, did ya?”

“I don’t,” Kaito responded in distraction as they walked out of the building. The gust of wind immediately blew at him, waffling his clothes and chilling hi to the bone, making him feel as if he had forgone wearing any clothes all together. A lone snow crystal fell on his nose and melted in a matter of a second. “I just needed some fresh air.”

Toma continued talking, however Kaito payed him no attention as his eyes searched the area carefully until –

“You know what, I think I’ll take that cigarette after all.”

The classmate blinked at the magician in surprise, before handing the carton over. “They have a tad of a kick on first try. Be careful when you try to inhale –“

Kaito accepted it with a wry smile, “I’ll have it back in a moment.” He stepped out into the streets before Toma could protest – and the sharp wind and snow effectively drowned the sound of any objections. The street was cut into a crossroad, with large building complexes looming above, mostly filled with apartments like Keiko’s. Across the street, barely noticeable before, stood the bus stop. The roof almost filled with snow. A few people stood waiting for public transport.

One person was smoking, he wore a thick winter coat that reached to his knees, and a cap was pushed firmly down to his ears for some refuge from the chill winter air. Every few moments, the wind made the fringes of the coat flutter in the wind. He spotted Kaito immediately as the magician approached – and for a moment Kaito thought the man would flee by the way the man had stilled at the sight of Kaito’s approach. It was, however, not the case as he relaxed, standing calmly with a cigarette butt between his lips, the tip glowing softly in an unnatural way in the dim light. It took him a few moments before he realized why.

“Those are bad for you, you know,” Kaito commented as he came into talking distant. His voice loud in order to be audible from the howling of the wind. A shiver went down his spine – it was the cold, he told himself, and he regretted not bringing with him a scarf with him.

Kudou Shinichi removed the stick from his mouth and exhaled of puff of smoke in his direction as if in defiance of his words. “My possible deteriorating health in twenty years’ time is another thing to be blamed on you then,” the detective responded, his eyes dark from the shadows of the cap, and it made it difficult for Kaito to gauge his expression.

Kaito clenched his teeth – he was not sure if he should think it ironic for finding the annoyance of people hiding their facial expressions by utilizing the obscuring features of a cap. “So you are admitting you are stalking me?”

There was a quirk of Kudou’s lips, and he tilted his head once towards the sign above their heads. “I’m just waiting for the bus,” he commented lightly, and he twirled the electronic cigarette he had been puffing on between his index finger and thumb as though he had forgotten about its existence. “I’m not doing anything illegal.”

“You’ve been waiting for a while –“

“Terrible bus services when the streets are slippery, as you are well aware,” the detective replied smoothly – clearly expecting the rebuke and had written the script long before they had met – before parting his lips to puff on the cigarette once more. Kaito could swear his eyes were glittering, as if daring the magician to object to his reasoning.

Kaito’s heart stared to hammer against in his chest in trepidation, his mouth became dry from uncertainty. Kudou Shinichi made him nervous – Kaito could tell the man was a dangerous adversary on a whole different level than what he was used to encounter. He was used to playing cat and dog with his detectives, however Kudou seemed to be playing by a totally different set of rules – and the uncertain variable frightened the magician. For a moment, he wondered if the detective was actually his guilty conscience made into flesh and blood.

“I was under the assumption that detectives on a stalk-out shouldn’t be smoking, lest they bring unwanted attention on themselves,” Kaito commented instead, unsure as to what to say. He was freezing down to his toes and he had a growing urge to retreat back into the warmth, half of him wondering what he had been thinking when he decided to confront Kudou.

The detective stared at him for a silent moment, before his lips quirked upwards in the closest Kaito had seen him be amused. “Depends entirely on the surrounding environment, actually. It’s usually frowned upon to smoke in cars, but in a public space? It does the opposite. Standing around in the same area without doing anything will actually rouse more suspicions,” his lips curled up even more, looking more like a shark than ever. “A hypothetical example of course.”

Kaito clenched his fist together – and only then did he remember the carton of smokes he had taken from Toma in a vain attempt to hold the cards to launch an offense as he started up a conversation with Kudou. He felt foolish now for doing so, but at the time it at seemed a good idea – if only he had realized the detective had been using an electronic one earlier – and he disliked being on the defensive for the third time in a row.

“You really shouldn’t be reprimanding me for smoking when you are harbouring the same bad habit,” Kudou continued, sounding almost far too smug, had it not been for the cold expression on his face that had nothing to do with the winter – and Kaito felt his stomach drop with irritation over the fact that the detective had seen straight through him. Perhaps the rumours that Kudou could read minds was true –

“Electronic vapours without all the nicotine or tobacco. I recommend you switch to that instead. Far better for your health.”

Kaito shoved the carton into his pocket and he raked his fingers through his hair– _the damn detective had thought about everything._ He could swear he was being mocked, and Kudou was a malicious puppeteer, misleading him on purpose. Probably laughing whenever Kaito tripped up.

“Stop it, just stop it,” he barely managed not to growl through clenched teeth. He refused to play by the detective’s games. “Surely you have better things to do than to follow me around on a Thursday evening. Why not just be with your girlfriend –“

The detective’s expression instantly fell, and there were certain aggression and anger in the tension of his shoulders that made Kaito took a subconscious step back. Kudou had been somewhat mild mannered in their all their previous interactions =, seemingly more interested in the pursuit of justice in the calm, calculated way detectives tended to be.

However, now it seemed like there were something more lurking underneath the surface as to why Kudou Shinichi wanted to have him arrested.

And that, Kaito realized, was what made Kudo Shinichi dangerous. The refusal to back down, and purposely giving himself to the harsh elements in his determination. Standing outside for hours in the cold winter evening just to keep an eye on him. In any other circumstances, and Kaito might have been impressed at his steel-like resolve.

“Leave me be, I’m not going to do anything tonight. Just go home,” the magician sighted, raking his fingers through his hair again. His voice came out tired– exhausted of jumping at shadows and having eyes strained on him constantly.

“I will,” the detective responded after a moment, “when you turn yourself to the police,” his voice cold, emotionless, all that anger had evaporated as though it had only been a trick of his eyes. “Until then, I’m not going anywhere.”

Pulling on his pokerface, Kaito mustered a grin and replied in an almost mockery tone. Finally, he had the upper hand. “That sounded like an admission this time.”

Kudou was silent as he glared at Kaito – and he wondered for a second what the detective was seeing. A criminal with sociopathic tendencies -  that was what Kudo Shinichi had called him - , uncaring and callous to the disastrous road he had carved through just to get some excitement and an adrenaline rush. The words had cut him to the core – of course Kaito cared, he damn well cared too much sometimes. Worse yet, no matter how much he could argue against it, Kudo Shincihi would never believe that. Actions speak more than words – and so far, the magician’s decisions seemed selfish, cruelly so.

Kaito could not begrudge Kudou’s desire for revenge – that must be it, what’s driving the detective - , what Kaito had done had been utterly unforgivable. However, he could not deal with this right now, he was far too tired, especially with all the talk in the media on whether Kaitou KID was guilty of first degree murder –  and that was on top of everything else: each sympathising word, every blame hitting him hard and making him want to curl into a tight ball and cease existing altogether.

Whatever the detective was going to say, however, Kaito would never know, as the evening silence was suddenly breached by a piercing scream. Kudou did not hesitate as he turned on his heel and was already running into a housing complex by the time Kaito registered the sound – and later, he would quietly marvel at the detective’s unnatural hearing, with how he had instantly known which direction the sound had originated from in the split of a second.

Kaito only hesitated for a moment, before following suit – despite this had been the perfect moment to finally slip away from the detective’s notice, curiosity and his burning urge to help had overwhelmed him rationality.

By the time he was inside the apartment complex, Kudou was already in the stairways on the second floor, and the magician grumbled under his breath at the detective’s stamina and speed as he followed the man up the stairs. A door to his left was open on the third floor, and Kudo did not hesitate before stepping into the apartment. From the doorway, Kaito could see into the living room: the balcony door stood wide awake, and the yellow curtains fluttered in the breeze – it must have been the reason they could hear the scream from outside –

“Kuroba, call the ambulance!” came the order from one of the rooms. As Kaito fumbled for his mobile phone he wondered how Kudou had known he had followed right behind, especially when the magician could not see the detective from his spot by the door.

Walking into the apartment, his stomach dropped as a coldness spread in his chest. Kudou was crouching above a still-bleeding woman. A knife stood to its hilt into her stomach, the blood gushing all over the woman and the detective as he tried to stop the bleeding. A small girl stood petrified by the balcony door, too white and shaking to be of any use.

As the magician watched, Kudou pushed the woman’s feet up on some pillows, keeping them elevate as he started to dress the wound. His white shirt – a fabric that looked far more expensive than anything Kaito had owned – was already red in a way that told him it could never be salvaged.

Kudou Shinichi seemed not to care however, having forgotten anything else as he focused on saving the woman’s life. Swallowing thickly, the magician realized that the detective had forgotten about his presence – or at least, what Kaito’s presence had meant -  there were no hostility in his voice as he had called out for help – and could not helped but admire the man’s priorities and resolve.

Kaito had barely managed to dial the number for the ambulance before a dark shadow came rushing in through a door. He barely caught the movement in the corner of his eye. Only the reflexes trained into him after being a phantom thief for the past two years had allowed him to evade the sharp metal that had been aimed at him. He did not allow himself to hesitate as he grabbed the perpetrator’s hand and twisted the wrist until his attacker drop the knife with a cry. A moment later, he kicked the assailant at the back of his knee and they buckled underneath him. Kaito barely got the sight of dark, wild eyes underneath a mop of ruffled hair as the man sagged to his knees in defeat.

“Kuroba?” Came the hesitant question from the living room. Kudou must have heard the conflict with him entirely out of range from the doorway.

“I’m fine, I got him,” Kaito immediately tried to reassure the detective, despite being a little out of breath from the surprise-attack. It would not do for the detective to lose concentration right now. Kaito then pushed the man’s arms together, wrapping them with a coloured scarf that he was lucky he had decided to carry with him for a magic trick.

After he was sure that the assailant was securely restrained, he balanced his phone that was now in the junction between shoulder and ear, taking in the voice of the operator – who luckily enough, had kept the line open. It took him a moment before he registered the question the operator had asked him before he absentmindedly listed the address of the building. His attention was glued on _Shinichi_ working, and if he strained his ears hard enough, he could hear reassurance being muttered to the victim: “ _you are doing great, deep breaths, don’t die on us. Think about your little girl, yeh? Take her back to that little cabin by the lake again, remember how happy she was to be together with you.”_

For some reason, that image stuck with him even after the medical personnel and police arrived five minutes later. He backed away from the man who had not struggled after being restrained, and watched the police lead the culprit away in handcuffs. Being on this side of the arrest, he felt relieved watching justice be served – and his chest suddenly ached at the thought. Would seeing his own incarceration be a comfort to others?

He slipped out of the apartment after that, not wanting to be in the way of the professionals, and came to a hesitant stop as he noticed Kudou Shinichi sitting by a wall further down the corridor. He sat there undisturbed, and it seemed as though the police took careful steps so as not to bother him. It filled the magician with wary curiosity, one that he indulged in a moment later as he noticed a tension of the detective’s shoulder and slight shaking of his hands as he tightened and uncurled his fists.

His shirt was soaked through and was stuck to his chest with a still-bright red splash across the fabric. A streak of crimson covered his cheek, and made Kudou’s features look even paler in contrast.

“You have some blood on your cheek.”

Kaito’s soft voice made the detective look up startled. Kudo had apparently been too lost in his own thoughts to notice the magician’s approach. A moment later, his eyes settled on the white handkerchief that Kaito had offered. Kudo only hesitated for a second before accepting the fabric.

Kudou did not thank him as he started to clean his face and hand – and Kaito had not expect him to. His face looked exhausted and his eyes a little hollow as they glittered underneath his eyelashes in the artificial lights from above. Again, the magician wondered what he was doing sitting alone in the corridor – he had been expecting an arrogant display like Hakuba tended to do whenever he had the upper hand or solved a crime during an investigation or Kaitou KID’s heist: ordering the police around and making statements almost before the first responders had arrived at the scene. Kaito had been surprised when the detective had slipped out of the room without a word once the medical personnel had attended to the victim.

The police officers had not approached Kudou even once; something Kaito found even more odd, as he recognized the man and the woman who had incarcerated him and he knew them to be the detective’s acquaintances.

“Too many voices,” Kudou suddenly spoke, his voice hoarse with exhaustion and he lowered his eyes so Kaito could not read his expressions, almost as though Kudo had not meant for the words to slip out – and only a second later did Kaito realize he had voiced the question out loud.

Swallowing, the magician suddenly backed away in surprise – wondering for the second time of the day if the detective could actually read minds – surely that was too surreal to believe? It must have been a slip of his tongue and meant something completely different, Kaito decided. Maybe Kudo was having a headache, Kaito would not blame him for wanting some peace and quiet if that was the case.

Kaito left without a word, leaving the detective alone, especially with his own head swimming with questions with everything that had transpired today – the knowledge that the Kudou was after him for a reason; the clear evidence of the man being a kind person and not an arrogant, ruthless bastard he had been led to believe. He ignored Aoko’s questions as he stepped back into Keiko’s apartment about where he had been, and he did not answer the curious glances his classmates had as they looked out the window wondering why the paramedics were there.

Kaito was left alone for the rest of the evening – there were no observing glances from outside, and he was certain Kudou Shinichi was not watching him.

 


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is long overdue, and rest assure the story has not been forgotten. I still have another chapter pre-written. However, life and school and other stressful situations tend to interfere in private life. Special thanks for Addy01 for taking time out of her day to betaing for me.
> 
> I don’t know when the next chapter will be uploaded. But I promise it will be.
> 
> Published: 12.12.2017
> 
> Wordcount: 5.7K 
> 
> Warnings: none

 

Kudou Shinichi had never liked the hospital, and having to visit the place on a regular basis had born a hatred for the white walls and disinfected chemical smell that coated the air. The worst that bothered him about hospitals however, were the people. He could feel the sadness and the fear grating against his skin as he walked past with quick steps. He could hear people pray to deities in their head, the whispers of forgiveness and guilt between their lips. If gods existed, he wondered how they ever managed to differentiate between the many voices bombarding them with prayers.

Only the soft music playing through his earpieces kept the oncoming stream of foreign, intruding thoughts and emotions at bay. He was not even sure exactly what he was listening to – just that it had a quick rhythm and a vibrating bass. It was not the music or the lyrics he was after, he needed the distracting and comfort noise to empty his mind.

“Are you hurt?”

Shinichi looked up, the questions loud enough to pierce through the music, and a worried expression peered at him through a fringe of bleach-blond hair. It took him a moment to recognize her as the nurse he had stopped two weeks prior for help with the boy, Kano. He removed his left earbud, as she stepped into his path, forcing him to stop in his tracks.

It only took a second of confusion before he remembered he was still wearing the white dress-shirt splattered with blood, and he swallowed down thickly at the memory of how it came about to be so. He could only hope he had not arrived too late to save the woman’s life – the moment he had stepped into the apartment, he had been overwhelmed by the fear and pain, so much that he was sure he had not truly been thinking rationally as he had run to her help. If it had not been for Kuroba following, the culprit might have escaped, or worse, continued his assault.

Shinichi wanted to berate himself for his stupidity, he should have made sure they were alone in the apartment before jumping into the situation; should have checked for the perpetrator: if he had been an actual police officer instead of a consultant, that thoughtless action could have resulted in a suspension.

He was not sure why Kuroba had followed him at all – it would have been the perfect opportunity to slip away unnoticed and the detective would not have been able to keep an eye on him. He might want to catch the thief, but the immediate cases came first: he knew he had nothing to go on, and could only wait for the magician to make a mistake. Everything pointed into the direction of Kuroba Kaito being a capable and intelligent teenager – the kind who would grow up to be a formidable, but dangerous, enemy.

“Yes, I’m fine. Its not my blood,” he finally responded, though probably far too slow to be reassuring, if the crease between Morino’s eyebrows were any indication.

“You certain you don’t need any help? A new shirt perhaps?”

Shinichi did a quick glance at his clothing again, and started to button his jacket to hide the view. He had not had the time to change earlier as he had caught a ride to the hospital the moment he had given his statement to Inspector Megure. The detective had an impulsive, overwhelming urge to see Ran after the interview. A part of him wondered if it was merely a psychological anxiety from watching someone bleeding out in his arms, unable to save them – just like how he had been unable to save Ran in time.

_I hate psychology_.

“I’m perfectly well, thank you for your concern, Morino-san,” he brushed her off as he stepped past her. He miscalculated his step and accidently bumped into her. He felt a tingle of sadness from her sd their shoulders connected.

_“This is the third time I’ve seen him this week. I wonder if the girl is his girlfriend, I can’t imagine watching someone I love wasting away in a hospital bed. Sometimes I hate this job, why did I decide I wanted to be a nurse again? I’m not truly helping anyone.”_

Shinichi did not say anything as he continued down the corridor despite the nurse’s melancholy following like a dog on a lease.

He put the earbud back into his ear and tried to ignore the cold terror that was spreading in his stomach – of course she was pitying him. It had been over two weeks already since the day when Ran had been admitted. The longer Ran kept sleeping, the lower the chances she would regain consciousness.

He shook the thought away firmly before it spiralled down a black hole. He did not want to think about the possibility. Ran would wake up. She must wake up, he was certain of it, and when she did, he would have Kaitou KID in jail, locked away for good.

 Technically it was not visiting hours, but he had hoped no one would care if he did not stay for long, he just wanted to make sure his friend was safe and sound.

As he arrived at Ran’s room, he was surprised to see he was not alone.

Standing above Ran’s bed was a woman with long, white-blond hair that reached her lower back, – a naturally blond, he immediately noted, definitely not a colour that could be derived from a bottle. She was tall, taller than him, something not uncommon with foreigners, and stood with her back to him. She wore a tight-black attire with high-heeled boots that looked precarious to walk on, despite the grace she displayed wearing it.

Ever muscle in Shinichi’s body immediately tautened on their own accord, and he suddenly had a cold feeling of dread spreading in his chest. He had the distinct impression that he was being watched like a hawk despite the woman not even looking at him. The only emotion he could sense from her was that of an aura of chill calmness that reminded him vaguely of a reptilian.

He was stuck with the sense that he had seen her before, perhaps in his distant past, though he could not place her in any of his memories.

“It is always a tragedy seeing an angel slumbering away like this.” She spoke suddenly. Her voice was smooth and calm.

It took him a moment to realize the woman had spoken in fluent Japanese without any hint of an accent.

Shinichi did not respond however; his eyes were glued on her form, a foreboding feeling curling in the tip of his stomach – and he was not certain why he was reacting to her presence to such a degree. He removed his earplugs slowly and stuffed them into his pocket, pretending to not have heard the woman above the music.

Her shoes clicked across the floor as she finally moved to face him, and he was met with light blue eyes that felt like a frozen winter as they settled on him, and he had to resist the urge to take a step back from the intense gaze. Amusement glittered in her eyes and a smile curled on her lips in humour as though she was laughing at something he was not privy to.

“Are you friend of the Mouri’s?” he asked slowly, his eyes never leaving the woman’s face, waiting for some thought or any hint to indicate who she was.

“No,” she took a step towards him. “I have been waiting for you; I was hoping you’d come.”

Shinichi clenched his teeth and averted his gaze with his heart hammering in his chest – how had she known he was coming? Possibilities raced through his mind, all of them worrying. Either someone had been following him, o she had ties with the police. Neither was an option he liked.

“If you are in the need of a consultation, I strongly request that you call my home office and leave your contact number and information. I’ll call you back if I decide to accept the job,” he replied icily, too used to clients harassing him – more often than not, it was the upper classes looking for cheap entertainment and wanting to show off that they can afford a mind reader on their payroll.

“I’m not a client,” she cut him off neither rudely nor impatient, but rather in a manner of someone desiring to cut straight to the chase. “I simply wish to ask you a question.”

Shinichi marginally relaxed his shoulders at the news despite the lingering wariness, and after a moment of scrutinizing her expression waiting for a clue or a stray thought of her true intentions – though she betrayed none –, he gave her a slight nod. “Ask away then, though I will not promise I would answer.”

He had instinctively, almost expected the usual inquiry of his mind-reading abilities and the like. He had been approached numerous times by sceptics and fans alike who simply asked, ‘what am I thinking?’. However, he had a feeling that it was not what the stranger had in mind to ask. He tried reading her thoughts once again, but all he could feel was the muted amusement that radiated off her like a perfume she wrapped herself in on a daily basis. Not a whisper of her thought could be heard however, like a certain magician he was trying to apprehend.

She was not exactly, however, like Kuroba Katio, whom he could not read at all like a brick wall place between them. She was simply guarding her thoughts carefully, and it implied that she truly did expect him to be able to read her mind if she let him. If he had not known better, he would have sworn she was trained to shield herself from mental intrusion – the very idea was laughable. Shinichi had never met anyone like him, and he doubted there existed any other.

“Fair enough, but I have a feeling this is a question you would want to answer.”

He could not help but let a frown creep into his face, and when her eyes darted in Ran’s direction, he almost stepped forward to stand between his childhood friend and the stranger. It came crashing back to him that she had been in Ran’s room without anyone noticing, and he made a mental note then to make sure the security was tighter around her room. He had failed her once already, he would not do so twice, and not because of something he could prevent.

“If you do, I promise we can offer the best medical care available for her –“

“Leave her out of this,” Shinichi suddenly snapped, his throat tightening as he narrowed his eyes. He suddenly wanted her as far away from Ran as possible. For every moment that ticked by, the more he felt uneasy, and a part of him hoped the woman would let something, anything through that mask of hers that would allow him to read her intentions clearly.

His reaction, however, caused her to curl her lips upwards in an almost smug expression as her blue eyes snapped back at him to regard him once more before asking. “How does one ask a question?”

He paused for a moment, his chest swiftly bubbling with confusion. “What kind of question is that?” The snarky reply slipped past his lips before he could think, and he instinctively gritted his teeth in regret.

Her facial expression did not change an inch.  And then, the amusement that was radiating off of her plummeted as a feeling of disappointment filled the air between them. She did not say anything else as she stepped past him, and Shinichi turned to watch her depart with his heart hammering in his chest in surprise at the sudden turn of events.

Why had the question been so important to her? Suddenly, he felt a growing, unexplainable urge to reel her back in and to say something, anything in his defence for his reaction – if only she was not so frustrating to read, and before he knew it, he called after her. “That question would only make sense, if I know what you are thinking.”

She paused in the door opening, but did not turn to face him. “What is my name?”

This time, he did not have to think as he spoke the first thing that came to his mind.

“You don’t have one.”

The reply made the woman bark out a laughter, but it was not one of amusement this time.  Despite not being able to place the feeling, but for a moment he could sense an aura of haunting melancholy as she turned to watch him through her eyelashes.

“What a curious reply,” was the only thing she said as she finally stepped through the door, leaving Shinichi alone with his confused thoughts.

_Exactly who was that woman, and what did she want with him?_

After her footsteps faded into the background, he finally turned his attention back towards Ran and sat down on the chair adjacent to the bed. He grabbed her small hand in his and inhaled air with shallow breaths, trying to calm his racing pulse, all the while squeezing her hand as if he could wake her up with pure willpower alone.

His heart felt like it was twisting painfully as though a part of it was missing as he gazed down at the girl. He waited impatiently every day, waiting for the call that would notify him that Ran had finally woken up – that her eyes had fluttered open to see the world. Her mind was still silent, and he could sense nothing from her. In the background, he could hear the soft noise from the television that had been playing all the while, but he did not bother turning around to see what channel it was – soft enough that he could not hear the words, but loud it enough that he had recognized the voice as Yoko Okino’s.

_I won’t let anything happen to you, I promise, Ran. Never again._

Shinichi was not left alone with his thoughts for long, and he felt a bubble of aggravation filling him as he heard a familiar voice calling to him from behind despite having expected the possibility of this happening.

“Visitor hours are over, I’m going to have to ask you to leave,” it took him only a second to recognize Morino’s soft voice. She did not sound like she was reprimanding him.

Standing up, he took a moment to brush the hair away from Ran’s forehead, before turning to face the nurse and walked out of the room. “Apologies, I just … don’t want her to be alone.”

It was the right thing to say, as her face crumbled a little in sympathy, her smile was kinder as she stepped away to let him pass. “Of course, I understand. But the rules are the rules, you can visit her again in the morning. I’m sure she would like that.”

Shinichi’s smile felt wooden, almost wanted to reply that Ran was in a coma, she would not even be aware of his existence and it was a pointless to believe otherwise. If Ran knew if he was there, he would have been able to tell. He did not however, correct the nurse, knowing that she was simply trying to make him feel better.

“There was a woman in here earlier, have you seen her before?”

Morino’s brows creased for a moment in confusion, and he did not need to hear her reply to know what she would say. He fished up a card from his pocket and handed it to her.

“If you see anyone suspicious, would you do me the favour of calling me?”

She only hesitated for a second, seemingly to wanting to decline out of habit. However, the tone of his voice and his insistent eyes must have conveyed to her he would not have asked if it were not a serious request. She accepted the card with a nod. “I’ll keep an eye out.”

Some tension drained from his shoulders. “Thank you,” he said honestly for the first time that day, before stepping past her and headed down the corridor.

…                                                                                                                                                                             

The winter air was even colder than earlier as he stepped out of the building and he huddled further into his jacket. He wondered where his scarf had gone, but he suspected he had left it in the police car he had hitched a ride from earlier. With a sigh, he noticed it had started to snow again, and the white crystals drifted passed him, as if in defiance to his misery.

He tottered through the newly shovelled pathway towards the bus stop. The only light illuminating the evening came from the streetlights above his head that cast shadows that danced across the pavement as he walked past. The thrumming of the music in his ears were the only audible sound.

The bus stop only had a roof and a bench to sit on, and it looked mercifully dry despite the snow that drifted in. There was only one other person in there, a woman with her hood pushed into her face and strains of light brown hair curling at her temple. Her jacket was a deep green that looked almost black, blending in with the shadows. She had a cigarette between her lips that she puffed on lightly. As Shinichi stepped under the roof and sat down on the bench, she removed the stick and let out a breath of soothed vapour.

There was an aura of exhaustion from the woman, and the stray thoughts of: ‘ _great, I hope he doesn’t ask me to not smoke’_ and _‘I just want to go home and sleep_ ’, drifted across his skin for a moment.

Shinichi did not ask her to, could tell she needed the inhale of nicotine with feverish craving, and he could not begrudge her the desire. They sat in silence for a long few minutes, only occasionally broken by the rustling of fabric when one of them moved to check the time . He thought it almost ironic, that the _‘terrible bus service when the streets are slippery’_ had become a legible excuse, when it had merely been a flimsy afterthought to give him a reason stalk out the thief hours earlier.

With a sigh, his thoughts went back to Kuroba Kaito, and instead of the usual anger that accompanied, he now just felt lethargic about the topic. For some reason, the thief had helped saved a life when he had not needed too; and the cynical parts of Shinichi’s mind wondered if it was all just a calculated move to trick the detective into believing he had misjudged the thief. One good action did not outweigh all the bad the man had cost, unless it was the psychological ethic he worked with.

_People who believe the ends justify the means are likelier to offset good deeds with bad ones and vice versa. By contrast, those who believe right and wrong are defined by principle, not outcome, tend to be more consistent, even if they're behaving unethically._

“It’s not often you see a person leave the hospital wearing bloodied clothes, usually it’s the other way around.”

The woman’s voice was barely audible above the thrumming of the music, and it was clear she was not expecting him to have even heard her. His gaze fell down to his wardrobe, and he realized with annoyance that a fleck of blood was visible where he had not unbuttoned his jacket properly. He let his eyes wander towards his companion, however she was not looking in his direction.

She did not seem shocked or worry about the fact she had noticed, rather she was indifferent to the affair with her mind drifting with a clear _‘I don’t really care, I’m not going to say anything else.’_

His curiosity suddenly peaked and he slowly removed the earpiece on his ear and faced her. “I don’t imagine I’d have gotten far had the blood belonged to me.”

For a fraction of a second, her lips quirked upwards in amusement.  He did not even need to see the movement to feel the thick emotion emanating off from her. “I figured as much,” she turned to face him, and for the first time he could see her eyes almost gleam where the street lamps reflected. “Victim or friend?”

This time, it was Shinichi’s lips that twitched, “neither.”

She only made a soft noise in the back of her throat in response, although the detective was not certain whether it was a choked laughter or simply a hum. She took another puff of her cigarette, but her eyes did not leave his face. She must have noticed his eyes dipping to follow the movement, for a second later she pulled up a carton from her jacket and offered the package towards him. “Need one?”

He eyed it for a silent moment, hesitantly tapped his pocket before letting out a soft swear when he felt the lack of lump that he had been expected. He must have dropped his electronic cigarette somewhere. Suddenly with his throat hitching with the curious desire and need, he reached out to drag one long, white stick from its appendage. “With the day I have had? Definitely.”

She did not say anything in reply as she gave him the lighter and he quickly fired up the cigarette as he handed it back to her. He took a deep inhale, and the smoke burned down his throat where he had been breathing nothing but the cold winter air for the past ten minutes. He did not cough as he exhaled the narcotics; it was not the first time he had experimented with smoked substances; although he had no habits of it.

They fell back into silence as they puffed on their respective sticks, but the quiet was short lived this time as the woman threw her cigarette on the floor and stepped on it. Her sleeves caught his attention.

“You are rather young to be a doctor.”

She froze in her movement, her eyes flickering to meet him, and for a second he could both see and sense the fear flickering across her eyes. She sat up slowly, as she collected her facial features to face him with a mask of indifference, however he could still feel the pungent worry. “I’m not a medical doctor –“

He could see a flash of a memory as she spoke: ‘ _she was wearing a white lab coat in a room filled with laboratory equipment. In front of her was a small cage with a dead mouse._ _With a stifled sigh, she raked her fingers through her locks. She could not remember the last day she had showered or even left the lab. Two-three days ago perhaps? She was not sure, maybe she would be able to think clearly about this all if she got a good night sleep. She should call her sister soon, she had not spoken to Akemi in a while –_

_“Another failure, Shiho? This isn’t looking good for you.”’_

He blinked away the memory, feeling slightly confused at her growing suspicion. “But you work at a lab,” before she could say anything he continued, “your sleeves, there are tiny holes in them. You better be more careful with the hydrochloric acid.”

Almost as a defence mechanism, she grabbed the mentioned cloth, and after a second of examining she relaxed her shoulders as she realized he was right. ‘ _Oh, thank god. I thought he could have been one of them.’_

For a moment, Shinichi was tempted to ask who _they_ were and what was frightening her to such a degree, however he could tell immediately he would never get an answer. He scrutinized her face slowly, wondering if she was in danger.

“You see a lot,” Shiho muttered, trying to move the topic of discussion away almost instinctively, as though she knew he could see her thoughts, though he knew that was not the case.

“I have seen a lot,” was his only response.

Shinichi wondered where the conversation would have gone, had the bus not arrived a moment later. Perhaps everything would have been different had he reached out to her, however he had decided to drop the subject and push the strange meeting from his mind as he threw the cigarette on the ground before getting on the bus. The snow continued to howl in the street, and it only took it minutes to cover the area with a thick layer of snow, forever erasing the signs of them ever having met.

…

The Kudou house stood cold and uninviting at the end of the street. The road through the front yard to the door was not shovelled and Shinichi rubbed his forehead with a suffering sigh. He hated the snow, it made his life so much more difficult, and not for the first time he wished he had not left his rented car at the crime scene and given his keys away to a junior officer to drive it home for him – Megure’s command. The older inspector did not want him to drive in his condition – tired, unfocused and after an adrenaline-filled cased – and sometimes Shinichi wondered if the man had ever truly trusted him behind the wheels despite acing his driving license on first try.

His hands shook slightly as he withdrew the keys from his pocket, his lethargy showing when it had taken him two tries before he managed to slot it into the lock. He pushed the door opened and stepped through, glad to finally get out from the cold. The house was warm where he had put the heater on full before leaving, fully expecting the weather to have turned cold as he had left hours earlier.

He removed his jacket quickly and kicked his shoes off haphazardly as he headed towards the modern-furnished kitchen. Despite Yukiko’s less enthusiastic cooking, she had made sure he did not want for anything in regard to kitchen equipment when they had left him to travel the world. The benches were of a dark-red colour with specks of white and red. The table stood on the right side of the room by the wall and was only large enough for a family of three to eat. For more guests, the larger table in the dining room was used.

On auto-pilot, he reached out for the light-switch on his left, and the electricity hummed for a moment as the lights flickered on, bathing the room in artificial brightness. The telephone on the glass bench blinked with unread messages, and he only hesitated for a second as he clicked the button to hear the messages.

The first few were from potential clients:

_“Hello, my name is Hirota Masami, and I am looking for my father – “_

_“This is Tani Fumie again, about my cheating husband –“_

_“How would you like to work for the Wanijima cooperation –“_

_“This is Hirota Masami again, please disregard my last message, I managed to employ a different detective to the case. Sorry for the inconvenience –“_

Shinichi let the voices from the machine drift in the background as he walked through the kitchen to the white and black fridge that was entirely too large for one person as his stomach grumbled in protest, reminded him that he had forgotten about dinner. The time had flown entirely too fast this evening for his liking.

_“Hello, my name is Morita Iyona, I’m a journalist from Tokyo Daily, and I’m wondering if you’d be available to comment on an open investigation –“_

He opened the fridge, only to realize it was for the most part empty but for a package of butter and a citron. His stomach dropped at the sight with a feeling of guilt. If Ran could see him now, she would be disappointed in him. He owed her better than this; to not let his life fall into a spiral of neglect in the need to pursue of ustice. But every time he went to bed, all he could see was the image of her in that hospital bed, and his sleep was plagued with her voice calling out to him with accusations of: _‘Why weren’t you there to protect me Shinichi. Why haven’t you soughed justice for me yet. Do I really mean so little to you?’_

He closed his eyes tightly shut and took a deep breath. He missed Ran more than he had ever thought possible. He missed talking to her, missed her calling him every day, missed seeing her walk next to him. He even missed her glassy-eyed expression as he once more talked and talked about Sherlock Holmes.

Most of all, he missed the way her mind felt; always so soothing and comforting, like a puff of fresh air and waves hitting a beach. Everyone else tended to be so noisy and chaotic, that sometimes he got a throbbing headache just walking out of the house. She had always been there for him, supporting him and never once questioned his abilities: she accepted and loved him for who he was.

_“Shin-chan, this is your mother. Please call me, we need to talk. We heard about Ran. Why – why didn’t you tell us?”_

The sound of Yukiko’s voice drifting from the machine snapped him out of his thoughts, and he turned around to stare with the realization that it had never even occurred to him to notify his parents. He had been entirely too busy with his mind occupied on taking Kuroba Kaito down. It felt like an obsession that was devouring every minute of his day, and he could barely breathe with guilt and pain for every moment that went by without Ran.

For a moment, he suddenly understood with clarity why some sought revenge through bloodshed: he had never before understood why someone could ever kill another person. But now? He almost, _almost_ understood the anger behind the action. However, it was not the same, he reassured himself, he did not want the thief dead, he wanted him to be held responsible for his actions.

He raked a shaking hand through his hair. “I am an utter mess without you, Ran,” he said loudly to himself. “What am I supposed to do?”

There came no answer from the room, not that he was expecting it.

The ringing of a doorbell made him startle in surprise, and his heart raced in his chest at the sudden sound piercing through the house. He closed the fridge and pressed the pause button on the answering machine as he walked to the entry hall to answer the door.

He was surprised to see the familiar form of Detective Takagi on the other side of the door. His stomach suddenly dropped, and his hand went to his pocket. “Is this about a crime scene? Apologise, I must have missed my phone buzzing somehow. Let me just grab my jacket and I’ll –“

Takagi flushed brightly, a colour appearing from a mixture of the cold winter breeze and embarrassment as he held his hand up to stop Shinichi in his tracks. The junior inspector was wearing a thick scarf around his shoulder, and his cap was pulled down to his ears in hope of keeping out the cold air. In his left hand he was holding a white bag.

“N-no, K-kudou-kun, that’s not why I’m –“ he stuttered in his usual speech-pattern as he tended to when he was nervous or caught by surprise. Takagi was a bright man that could come far as a detective, but he needed to work with his self-esteem at times, Shinichi thought to himself as he eyed him carefully.

“I came with your car,” Takagi finally burst out and held his hand awkwardly in his direction, and only then did the consultant notice the car in the drive way. From the street, he could see another car, and from the fond nervousness emanating from the inspector, Shinichi assumed it to be Sato.

“Thank you,” he said in surprise, “you didn’t have to. I thought one of the –“

“We wanted to,” Takagi cut him off, “We all know how hard you have it with Ran in the hospital. We all want to pitch in where you need it, you are not alone.”

For a moment, he felt speechless at the trust the inspector had in him, and his heart fluttered in his chest with a warmth that chased away the coldness that had settled into him the last two weeks. He lowered his eyes, unsure if his throat would work if he had tried to speak. He could tell for certain that Takagi meant every word he said.

_“We mean it, if you ever need anything. Don’t hesitant to call, we all owe you this.”_

“Sato had a feeling you forgot to eat anything, so we brought you some takeout,” the inspector continued with a soft smile curling on his lips, his previous nervousness evaporated as he stood a little taller on the steps.

“I –“ Shinichi swallowed, his cheeks flushing from the realization that someone had seen straight through him. In his entire life, the only one who had ever been able to do that was Ran – she never needed to read his mind to know what he was thinking. “Thank you.”

Takagi’s expression softened, as part of him must have expected the stubborn consultant to refuse their help. He handed him the bag, and bade him a good evening before leaving. Shinichi stood left for a few moments to stare after the car, before the cold air made him close the door and padded towards the kitchen in thought.

Perhaps he had jumped to conclusion: he was not alone in this after all. The weight he had been carrying on his chest suddenly lifted a little and he could finally breathe easier. Perhaps he should call his mother and apologise for not notifying them sooner. Of course, they would want to know about what had happened to Ran through _him_. Yukiko and Yuusaku were his parents after all.

He found a clean plate in the kitchen and promised himself silently – and Ran – that he would stock up on proper food tomorrow. He had been living on take-outs for far too long, he owed her to eat and sleep like a normal person, so she had one less thing to chid him about when she finally woke up.

 

 


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Special thanks for Addy01 for betaing. 
> 
> Wordcount: 6.3K words
> 
> Published: 31.12.2017 (Happy new year’s everyone!)
> 
> Warnings: none

Chapter 7

 “We are being followed again,” Aoko stated as he opened the door, greeted by the sight of his friend glancing at an inconspicuous car further down the street with an obvious glare.

Kaito merely wrapped his scarf around his neck with a silent sigh in reply. He did not want the girl to notice his unease over the whole ordeal - well, not any more than she already did. Part of him had hoped Kudou would leave him alone after yesterday, but a small part of him knew he would not be able to shake off the detective that easily.

“You should just file for a restraining order against him,” she continued, her lips curling downwards in displeasure as she stepped back to allow him to leave the house.

For a fraction of a second, Kaito considered her suggestion almost wistfully, before shaking the thought away. He stepped out of the door and closed it firmly. “But wouldn’t that be an admission of guilt if I let him show how much his presence rattled me?”

Aoko stiffened and peer at him through her eyelashes, giving the impression that she conceded to his logic – that it would only make him look guilty if he caused a fuss over the surveillance. However, that did not mean that she had to like it. “This is so stupid. You are _innocent_ , Kaito. We should complain about this harassment from the police. Why won’t you just stand up for yourself, just this once?”

The pleading tone from the girl made Kaito’s heart crack painfully. She was so naively certain of his innocence that it made him want to choke in his own guilt. He honestly did not deserve her loyalty to this extent – not when he had been lying to her over and over again for the past two years. Kuroba Kaito as Kaitou KID was solely responsible for almost every pain in her life: for her father never being home, for her father missing out on her birthday; for her father not being home to celebrate Christmas evenings.

And now? Now he had gotten her hurt; gotten both of the Nakamori’s wounded, and to what end? Finding Pandora and set a stopper for Snake and the organization that wanted it for whatever nefarious reason seemed to be even more of a pipe dream now. Did he have any rights to choose his mission over her happiness, by practically staining everything she cared for?

“At least let me file a restraining order, and hang around with me for now That way that detective won’t have the chance approach you at all, even illegally” Aoko continued, a smile curling on her lips. Her tone of voice chimed with sincerity, though there was a hint of a dull gleam in her eyes that told him that she was not expecting him to agree to allow her.

Kaito’s throat constricted again, and he had to blink quickly to keep the tears prickling in his eyes to appear. “Aoko –“ his voice cracked, and he forcing himself to swallow before he was able to continue. “If it ever gets to a point where it’s needed… Then yes, please do.”

Surprise flickered across her face when she realized he had agreed to her desperate plea. Then, she suddenly stepped forward, and before he had time to comprehend was happening, she had her one good arm embraced around him in a tight hug and the other, still in a sling, pressed against his chest. “Oh, Kaito. Don’t ever hesitate to ask for help, you hear me? You are not at it alone. _You are not alone.”_

Somehow, both warmth and coldness spread in his chest at her words – and not for the first time, he was burning with the intense desire to tell his best friend _everything_.

But he could not, would not, put her in any more danger that he had unwittingly exposed her to just by being his friend.

The less she knew, the safer she would be.

The embrace only lasted for a short moment, letting go as quickly as she had hugged him. He immediately felt colder than ever before, as though the three layers of clothing and a scarf did nothing to ward off the cold. He remembered why he had fancied Aoko in the past – she was truly an amazing and heart-warming person. She was someone he did not deserve to be with: he was nothing but a thief and a liar. He forced himself swallowed down his lingering emotions and locked them away. He loathed to think about it, but even Hakuba was much more trustworthy than him.

He was instantly struck by the turmoil of self-loathing, disgust, anxiety and guilt curling in his stomach, by how things had come to pass. He could not let it go on like this. With all this fuelling his impulse that had evaded him all morning, he made a decision. As Aoko let go of the hug, he suddenly flew past her, leaving her behind on the small stairs on his front yard.

“Go on without me,” he yelled out before she could chase after him, running over the precariously iced streets in the direction of the vehicle that had been sitting in front of his house all morning.

This time, it was an unobtrusive, dark-blue Sudan that sat hidden behind a flower delivery van. He did not let himself hesitate as he grasped at the door handle, pulling it open and slithered into the unoccupied passenger seat. The slamming of the door echoed across the small space and sounded foreboding to his ears.

Kaito’s heart was hammering in his chest, but he did not allow himself to regret his decision. He needed to confront his stalker. Turning around to face the occupant of the car, he was met with the prestigious image of Kudou Shinichi eyeing him carefully from his seat. His facial features told Kaito nothing about what the detective was thinking. However, the dark circles around his eyes told him that Kudou had slept little the day prior, though it looked like he had bothered to take care of his hair and clothing before leaving his estate.

There was a paper cup, without its lid, half filled with still-steaming black coffee in the cup-holder, and an empty bento box lay nestled between the seats. There was a picture of a woman stuck in the headliner; she had long, brown hair, lavender eyes and a kind smile as she beamed at the photographer.

“How is the woman? From the other day?” was the first thing that came to Kaito’s mind after a minute of full silence of wondering what he was doing.

Kudou did not respond immediately, his glowing, cerulean orbs were focused solely on his face, and Kaito wondered exactly what the detective was seeing. Could he tell that he had barely been able to sleep last night as he had cried himself to unconsciousness? Was there evidence of puffy eyes that Kaito had missed in the mirror – or could he tell what the magician had had for breakfast from a stain on his sleeves he had somehow missed in his hurry?

“She’ll live,” Kudou finally replied, his voice soft and smooth and only slightly subdued from the clear exhaustion reading in his face. He hesitated for a moment, and his lips suddenly curled downwards, though Kaito could not tell whether it was in displeasure or anger or something else altogether, before continuing: “thanks to you.”

The magician blinked in surprise, he had not been expected that. “Did you just thank me?”

This time, the squinting of the detective’s eyes came from slight vexation. “I will not repeat myself.”

Kaito could not help but to grin at the expression. “You are very welcome, _tantei-kun._ ”

Kudou stiffened slightly at the nickname, and a flicker of amusement flashed in his eyes as he lifted his eyebrow, the movement so slight that it was something Kaito would not have noticed had he not had the training in reading facial features as a phantom thief under his belt. However he did not comment any further on the subject.

Silence settled between them once more, and Kaito squirmed in his seat as he belatedly realized he had nothing else to say. The bubbling anger that had fuelled his previous actions had suddenly drained, and it left him with a confused and uncertain feeling. Was he poking at the sleeping bear with his rash actions? The point was to stay clear of the detective, not draw attention to himself, however there was a part of him that was curious about who exactly Kudou Shinichi was.

“You noticed the influx of rental cars, didn’t you?” Kudou hummed softly, looking to be lost in thoughts. “Seems I have underestimated your observation and deductive abilities, despite you hating us – what word was it you use – critics?”

The thief scoffed at the detective with what could almost be described as a pout. “Detectives aren’t the only one with highly attuned observational skills,” he deflected the question, not mentioning the fact it was actually Aoko who had pointed it out to him.

Kudou nodded courtly. “Duly noted, I will not make the same mistake twice.”

Kaito’s pride was tickled by the challenge that was flashing in the detective’s eyes– and suddenly his eyes flashed upwards to eye the picture of the young woman, and words slipped passed his lips before he had time to rethink. “Who is that girl on the picture? Your girlfriend?” his voice was drawled out in teasing, and his lips curled upwards in a grin.

It did not have the intended effect, as Kudou’s face suddenly fell, and all traces of almost playful amusement disappeared as though the prior expression had only been a ghost of Katio’s imagination. Instead, several emotions rippled across the detective’s face in incontrollable waves: pain, sorrow, anger, sadness and fury. The detective’s jaws clenched and unclenched as he bit down hard to keep from making any sounds.

Kaito’s stomach dropped painfully that the sight – Kudou looked like a wounded animal, one that would attack with the littlest of provocation, and suddenly he had the increasing urge to run away, wishing he had never posed that questions.

Almost as soon as it had happened however, the detective took a deep breath, closed his eyes and the tension in his shoulders visibly relaxed as he forced himself to calm down before opening it again to look at Kaito. A few moments of silence past, and the only thing Kaito could hear was the blood rushing in his ears – almost as though he had been close to death – and the sound of breathing filled the car.

When Kudou finally moved, it was merely to push the picture further into the headliner and out of view. “Something like that,” he finally spoke, his voice low and controlled, but his eyes never strayed from the thief’s face as it drilled into him with an expression he could not read.

Kaito swallowed thickly at the emotional outburst he had seen right in front of his eyes, his heart hammering in his chest – there was a story there, this was not the first time that the detective had responded so harshly to his questions. He suddenly understood he had stirred up the hornet’s nest on this one that this was the one line of question he had to avoid at any cost, lest he did not cherish having his head on top of his shoulders.

Righteous anger was burning in Kudou’s eyes, and at that moment, he was able to understand the motivation behind the detective with a clarity that evaded him previously.

If anything had happened to Aoko – he was sure he would probably react just as violent.

Icy coldness spread in his chest with another wave of guilt and remorse, and he itched to voice the questions on the tip of his tongue – who was the girl, was she alright? But his lips stayed firmly shut – he was not an idiot. She must have gotten hurt during the last heist – every evidence concluded to that. He could only hope she had not been in the death-toll.

Tears prickled in his eyes and he lowered his head to hide his expression, the fringes of his hair fell into his face and effectively hid his features. His left hand reached out to grabble for the door-handle. It took him a clumsy moment before he found it – the silence in the small space broken by the shuffling, before he managed to push the door open and he slid out on shaking legs.

“I’m –“ his words choked in his throat, and he had to take a deep breath to keep the bubbling panic from overcoming him. He clenched his palms, wondering exactly what he had intended to say – apologize? Beg for forgiveness? Instead, all that tumbled across his lips was: “I’m glad we managed to save the woman."

Kudou did not respond – not that Kaito was expecting it, but he could still feel the burning of his gaze as he closed the door after himself and walked down the street from where Aoko was still waiting, looking anxious and worried – she had not heeded his words and had stubbornly waited for him. He did not begrudge her that, and it was expected that she had no intention of listening to him one bit.

Question after question bubbled in his chest – and even more so kept appearing every time he met the detective. Exactly who was he, who was that girl he so clearly treasured so highly, why had he sat alone outside in the hallway alone and ignored by the police – and Kaito realized he had forgotten to ask. He raked his fingertips through his hair. This whole incident was a confusing mess – and part of him wanted to find the answers to his questions.

“You are an idiot,” Aoko hissed in her usual hot-headedness whenever she was worried about him as she hit him with her school bag. “Don’t do that to me again.”

Rubbing his head, Kaito smiled sheepishly. “Sorry, sorry.”

…

The blaring of a car horn woke him abruptly from where he had been slumbering in the back of the car. He wiped his chin with his sleeve where he could feel the slight moistness of drool. The car was mostly dark except from the lights of passing cars and the dim stereo from the front. Some j-pop music hummed from it and Aoko was singing softly with – although a few octaves darker and off-key.

The tie around his neck was digging into his collar. His skilful fingers automatically reached up to untie the knot till it lay more comfortable. “Are we there yet?” he stifled a yawn and sat up slowly.

Nakamori’s eyes flickered towards the rear-view mirror to eye the teen in the backseat. “Almost there,” his voice was slightly gruff.

Aoko shuffled in her seat to face Kaito with a soft smile. “Did you fall asleep?” She seemed to have matured the past few weeks – and he could not tell whether or not he felt guilty over stripping her off her childhood innocence. Being a victim directly involved in a terrible situation tended to make one mature far quicker than normal. Something the thief knew personally.

“Not really,” he half lied, “been a long day, that’s all.”

She raised an eyebrow but nodded, accepting his excuse and sat back properly into her seat lest her father started to chid her. As a police officer, Nakamori Ginzu had always been strict about proper seating codes – always making sure they were wearing their seatbelts despite both being in their late teens and far too old to be constantly reminded.

The car came to a stop as Nakamori backed into a free parking-spot. The car was filled with silence for a short moment when the engine was shut off, however no one looked inclined to leave. Then, Nakamori suddenly hit the steering wheel with a string of colourful words. Surprisingly, Aoko did not chastised him for his language this. Although Kaito could not see her face from where he was sitting, he was sure she must be pale with her lips trembling slightly.

The magician cleared his voice sharply, hoping to snap the two out of their lingering thoughts – he was sure they were stuck in the midst of the event that had transpired for them to come here, and he wanted them to focus on something different. “We can do this – we can stay as long or as little as you want.”

Both of the Nakamori’s eyes snapped to the rear-view window to stare at him with surprise, before Aoko giggled. “Kaito-kun being the mature one, that’s definitely a first.”

Kaito barely managed to not pout in response. “Are we doing this or not,” he drawled out the sentence, “I want to watch the new series by David Blain on the television later.”

“You don’t like him,” she parroted, though her voice was now light, lacking the tension that had been there earlier, and he could see the ghost of a smile from the reflection of the rear-view mirror. “You think he’s a terrible stage-actor with cheap tricks – no sense of humour what so ever and with a robot-like personality.”

He grinned in response. “Exactly, see my dedication to this?”

A startled laughter escaped Nakamori as he finally opened his car door and climbed out. “Let’s go, before we all chicken out and we are all forced to watch that show as punishment.”

Aoko turned in her seat to meet Kaito’s eyes, and they both shared a grin as they answered in chorus. “Yes sir.”

Kaito opened his door and climbed out. There was a moment of shuffling of doors opening and closing before a short alarm beeped to indicate that the car was locked. There was a slight drizzle from the rain – it had started few hours earlier, and come morning, most of the snow would most likely have been washed away.

“Look at your mess of a tie,” Aoko grumbled as she stepped into his personal bubble, and before he could react, she had already grabbed it and started to fix it. Her eyes looked concentrating on the job, although there was a hint of worry beneath the irritation. “Don’t touch it again, you hear me?” she groused out as she stepped back to admire her work. She straightened out some wrinkles of his jacket before she nodded it as passable.

“I hear you,” he replied on auto-pilot, letting the girl do as she wished. He was able to tie his ties meticulously of course, being far too used to dress up as Kaitou KID. He could tie them blindfolded at this point. It was a lingering habit to purposely crease his tie just to give Aoko an excuse to complain about his lack of common etiquette and be near him. It was just an evidence of his childhood friend’s rattled nerves that she did it again without much of a complaint.

She was wearing a dark blue dress that stopped to her knees and thick stockings were barely noticeable as her grey-boots covered her calves. The attire would almost have looked fashionable, had it not been for the bright orange jacket – and why anyone would possibly choose to wear something as hideous as that, he would never know. He decided pretty quickly not to comment on the topic.

Ginzo unlocked the trunk, and Aoko made to pick up a box from within, however Kaito beat her to it with a wrinkling of his nose. “I’m not letting you carry anything with just one good arm,” he told her with a soft smile – and it was most likely the compassionate tone of his voice that kept her from arguing – another sign of how rattled she was that she didn’t banters back.

They walked towards the entrance of the nearest building together without hesitation this time, already made the unspoken agreement of following through with their promise. The  air inside was warm and clammy, and the whispering hum of people met them as they stepped into the large building. A woman with red-dyed hair and a piercing in her nose noticed them immediately, and entangled herself from a conversation with an elderly couple to greet them. On her green shirt read a badge: ‘ _My name is Iori Oriana.’_

“Are you guys here for the meeting?” her voice was not particularly cheerful, as it did not fit the occasion, but there was kindness reflected in her brown eyes as she peered at them through her fake-eyelashes.

Next to Kaito, Nakamori shifted slightly. “Yeah, we are –“

Iori cut him off accidently and for a moment they stared at each other, waiting for the other to continue, before her lips spread a little larger in understanding of Ginzo’s discomfort. “Welcome then, it’s starts in 10 minutes. Just walk through those doors and your destination will be on your left. Please note that there’s refreshments on the table, feel free to take as you please.”

“We brought some fruits sando, is that alright?” Aoko asked with flushed cheeks, suddenly feeling nervous and Kaito unconsciously reached out to press his fingertips into the palm of her hand to remind her that she was not alone. She glanced to the side to meet his eyes, and they shared a soft smile between them.

“Of course, we appreciate you brought some with you. Just leave it on the table,” Iori responded immediately with a warm smile to reassure her. They shared a polite nod before heading in the direction she had pointed out. The room was large, with chairs filled with enough rows to fill most of the space. The wall by the entrance was covered with tablets with variations of snacks and other refreshments.

Kaito put their box on one of the available spaces and opened it to look at the sweetened sandwiches Aoko had made – with whipped cream and fruit. From the shabby appearance of some of them, he could tell Ginzo had tried to help her daughter with them. He carefully withdrew them from the container and distributed them on a plate, before closing the box and pushed it underneath the table which was covered with white fabric. Finding a napkin, he quickly filled them with a couple of Tariyaki’s that where on the table he intended to share with Aoko.

Turning around, he noticed the Nakamoris had already been seated and he hurried to join them. He handed Aoko the snacks as he sat down next to her. He knew he looked far calmer than he actually was: his heart was hammering what felt like a thousand miles a minute, and his mouth was too dry and tasted of metal from accidentally biting his cheek. He curled his fingers into his thigh to keep himself from hyperventilating, he could feel from the tightness of his chest that he was at the bare edge of it – what was he doing here anyways, he did not belong here, had no right to be here.

Or maybe he was simply a sick masochist. Maybe Kudou Shinichi was right about him, he was a sociopath.

He tried not to stare at the people sitting around, wondering what they had gone through, or if they were family of the victims – of his victims. For that’s what this was, a support meeting of the victims of the Kaitou KID heist. The room was filled with people of every age and gender, from children to old people that could barely stand upright without help. Some had bandages or wore casts where limbs had broken, others balancing on crutches like Hakuba did or sat in wheelchairs.

The atmosphere was sombre, yet he could still see smiles and occasional hushed laughter – a sign of how resilient people were, even in the aftermath of disasters.

He swallowed thickly, the everlasting guilt still bobbling in his chest as he watched them, watched all the people he was responsible for getting harmed. Had he not once vowed that no one would get seriously hurt at his heists? That he would not allow anyone else to die? And here he was, every single promise broken, and still he was not even one inch closer to finding Pandora. Could he really condone his actions in his desperate quest for avenging his father?

His shoulder suddenly tensed as something brushed against his hand, and he glanced to the side to meet the worried expression of Aoko, she slowly uncurled his fingers where he had been digging his fingertips into the soft flesh.

“It’s going to be okay, Kaito. I promise,” she said softly, her eyes filled with compassion, and suddenly the bobbling in his chest was filled with the urge to empty his bowel.

She was not supposed to be worried about _him_ , it felt wrong on so many levels. He knew half her concern grew from the fact that he had lost his own father in an explosion, and perhaps she thought his sour mood and protectiveness came from a fear of losing her too. She was not too far away from the truth, but this whole thing had been _his_ fault, and no one else.

His dark spiralling thoughts were interrupted as a middle-aged man with greying temples stepped onto the stage and started to softly pat the microphone. The static from the mike made Kaito wince, but it did not last long.

“I’m glad to see we have such a large attendance today, and I want to thank everyone who helped out organizing this meeting. As we all know, it had been little over three weeks ago since the Kaitou KID heist at Beika art museum, there was a fatal explosion that rattled the city. All of our hearts go out to the family of the eleven innocent lives that was lost.”

Kaito looked down at his hands, and he swallowed thickly to keep the prickling tears in his eyes from falling. The sad murmurs of the crowd brushed against him almost physically in what felt like accusation – and he could almost feel the phantom eyes of dozens upon dozens of eyes gazing at him like they knew, _knew_ who he was. However, he was sure it was only his imagination.

The middle-aged man spoke for a few moments longer, inviting anyone forward to talk and share their experiences. A woman in her early twenties stood together with another friend who helped her towards the podium. She was using a hospital cane to keep her balance, and wore a red ribbon in her hair. She shuffled towards the mike, for a moment she looked petrified at the prospect of talking to such a large audience, before taking a deep breath and plunged forward, her earlier nervousness disappeared. When she finally spoke, her voice was strong and unfaltering.

“My name is Asata Otome, and this is Nagata Misao,” she nodded towards her companion before letting her eyes wander across the room. “We went together to KID-sama’s heist together with our friend, Hiroi Ichiko. We always go to the heist together, and then celebrate afterwards with drinks at the pub,” a shadow of a smile twitched on her lips in remembrance, before disappearing into a sombre expression. “It has been three weeks, and the stench of her burning flesh is still stuck in my nose and I wake up every night feeling the fire and blood seeping through my fingertips -”

When Asata’s voice cracked up, Nagata stepped forward to continue. “Hiroi Ichiko never returned home that night. She will never get to say goodnight to her parents, she will never get to sit next to us and complain about her boyfriend, and she will never get the opportunity to finish collage and become a doctor, something she was striving towards. Ichiko is…was our best friend, and there had not been one single day that passed by where we don’t miss her presence desperately.”

If Kaito was alone, he would have curled into a ball and hidden his face into his thigh and pretended he was anywhere but here. He knew there had been casualties – the news had been printed everywhere on the television and in newspaper. But he had not known them personally, had been entirely too relieved that Aoko was safe, that no one he knew personally had been fatally injured. Now, he realized what had only been numbers ringing in his head, it finally struck him that they were real people. Each and every one with family, friends and dreams just like he had.

And yet, here he would have gladly traded their life for Aoko’s. What did that say about his selfish nature? He would always choose her, choosing her happiness over everyone’s else’s wish for revenge – for Kudou’s, for these girls who had lost their friends and the rest of the room of grieving victims. Every single person had justified reasons to hate him – and would Aoko be happier with him in jail?

These thoughts were constantly mulling on his mind, nagging and digging its shadowy claws into his scalp. He could barely breathe, but he was rooted to the seat and would not have been able to move even if anyone had showed up to arrest him again.

“With that said, we don’t believe _Kaitou KID_ -sama should be hold responsible for this accident. It wasn’t his fault, and everyone out for revenge are in the wrong,” Nagato continued, her words rushed in case someone were inclined to interrupt her. Already, murmurs of protest waved across the room, but she did not yield with her eyes blazing in determination with her chin pointed upwards. “We know Ichiko would not have wished for this man-hunt for persecution. Sure, if the heist had not been held at that location on that specific time, then none of us would have been there. But what if the museum held a late night showing for audiences? Then this would have happen nonetheless, except there would be no one to blame –“

She was cut off by a man who stood from his seat who practically growled at her words. “ _KID_ is a criminal, you cannot compare the two situations. My daughter is in the hospital because of th ismisguided idolization of a mere, unrepentant burglar. He should not be allowed to roam free in the street, this whole thing is wrong and should never have happened if the incompetent police would do just their jobs properly and caught the damn guy earlier.”

Next to Kaito, Aoko stiffened in her seat, and he could tell she itched the desire to defend her father, however Nakamori did not react further, the only sign that he was affected by the conversation around him was by the paling of his complexion. Kaito personally, was not sure what to feel – relief that not everyone hated him? Or shame over the fact that he did not deserve the loyalty that these girls had bestowed upon him.

“KID should do what is right and turn himself into the police, only then can we all get justice – but seeing as he has not, it proves only that he is a callous coward –“someone new spoke up, though the magician could not tell who had spoken.

“He is not a coward! I’m sure he’s feeling remorseful, I’m more content knowing he’s still out there safe and sound –”

“Please, everyone, calm down,” the middle-aged man whom had held the opening speech stepped forward in a fruitless attempt at taking control over the situation. “We are not gathered here to point blame, rather to –“ the rest of his sentence drowned out as someone else spoke.

“How do we even know that _Kaitou KID_ wasn’t one of the dead victims? Surely someone must have considered that– or he is one of the many still in the hospital in a coma. It’s not an impossible assumption.”

The crowd quiet down immediately, and Kaito froze in his seat with his heart hammering in his heart with the traitorous idea bloomed into this mind– he could put his mantle away if he wanted to. Pretend KID had died and continue with his every day, boring existence. Surely, no one would suspect otherwise? However, he shook the idea away immediately, he was not a coward, and he had to finish his mission, even if he landed in prison afterwards. He owned the people he had failed, he could not let them have died for nothing.

Half of him wanted to speak up, try defending himself and feel the rush of anger directed towards him personally, but he could not make his tongue move as it had turned into lead in his mouth. He felt his hands shake slightly, and suddenly he had had enough with the suffocating air. He stood from his chair and left, ignoring the soft call of his name from Aoko. He did not have the heart to speak to her, his mind twisted and turned with too many contradicting, confusing thoughts.

Again, his skin itched with the need to run away, to leave it all behind him. But he could not – would not. The corridor was cold and mostly empty as he stepped into it, and he finally let his breath escape uncontrollably as he sagged against the nearest wall. _Fuck_ , he thought, all of this had gotten out of hand. It was never supposed to be like this, he had an urge to call Jii-chan or his mother again, to hear their soothing voice and their reassurance that everything would be alright again.

_Except it never would_.

“I wonder what they would all think, knowing that _Kaitou KID_ was standing right outside at the hallway crying his eyes out.”

Kaito was too tired to jump in surprise as a familiar voice spoke, and only then did he noticed the wetness trickling down his chin. He made a half attempt of brushing the tears away with his palm, but let his hand fall slack next to him as he tipped his head down to hide his eyes.

“What do you want,” he mumbled after a moment, refusing to meet Kudou Shinichi’s burning gaze.

The detective was quiet for a long moment, which was only followed by the ruffling of clothing as he moved before something soft brushed against Kaito’s cheek. Only then did he glance up in surprise. Kudou’s eyes looked guarded and his face was mostly void of feelings.

“I forgot to return your handkerchief,” Kudou prompted when it took the magician too long to recognize what was pressing against his chin.

He could not move for a second, before he slowly lifted his hand and grabbed the fabric with a shaking hand. Kudou withdrew his hand immediately, and for a second Kaito was sure he saw the ghost of a smile.

“Thank you,” he replied with a soft voice, suddenly unable to take his eyes off the detective, his heart was suddenly fluttering again with the realization that he had never seen Kudou smile with anything but sardonically. _It fit him better_ , a stray voice supplied in the back of his mind. “You washed it.”

An eyebrow lifted slightly at his words. “Why of course, it was only proper is it not?” a mocking grin twitched on his lips, and Kaito decided he liked both smiles equally.

He suddenly noticed his breathing had calmed, and he straightened up, steadying his feet to face Kudou properly. “Who knew detectives could be gentlemen.”

Something glittered in Kudou’s eyes. “We do manage to not be arseholes when the occasion calls for it. You should cherish these few moments when it does happen.”

A surprised laughter escaped the magician, and he shook his head marginally in amusement. For a moment, he felt at ease, as though they were friendly companions for that few seconds. The mood however, quickly sobered up as he remembered exactly why the detective was here – he had followed him again. However, Kaito could not feel the usual feeling of icy panic or anger. Simply wondering why Kudou had bothered doing something nice to him.

“Nevertheless, thank you,” he said earnestly, before pocketing the handkerchief in his pocket. The detective did not respond, he simply gave a short nod to indicate he understood Kaito’s double-meaning: _thank you for keeping me from breaking down in public_.

A flash of confusion rippled through Kudou’s face for a moment, and his eyes wandered up and down Kaito’s form – what he was searching for, the magician could not tell. They might not be friends – far from it, but they seemed to have gotten to a mutual understanding. Neither would give up on their cause, and tomorrow they would go back to being enemies.

“Have a nice evening, Kuroba,” the detective finally spoke, before turning on his heel and held up a hand in farewell as he started down the corridor, leaving Kaito staring at his back. The detective really was an enigma wrapped in a mystery – and had they met under any other circumstances, Kaito’s natural curiosity would have left him wanting to unravel this piece of puzzle called Kudo Shinichi. But for the time being, Kaito had to keep his distance no matter how much he itched with the desire to do so.

He did not return back to the room again, rather stood outside the room waiting for the meeting to end for Aoko and Nakamori. Aoko did not meet his gaze as they journeyed to the car in silence, she looked too exhausted to function. As they sat back into the vehicle and started on their trek home, Kaito’s eyes wandered to the roads looking for the car that Kudo might have rented this time – however he could tell immediately that Kudou Shinichi was not following him.

He sunk back into his seat with a sigh. It had been a long day, and all he wanted to do was curl into his bed and sleep until all of this was over.


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter has been laying finished on my computer for a week now, however I had no motivation to re-read and edit it before now. Its almost been two months since my last chapter, however I was busy writing and publishing a different story. 
> 
> Special thanks to Addy01 for betaing, and Pro-chan for giving me an idea for a missing scene. 
> 
> Wordcount: 7060
> 
> Published: 26.02.2018
> 
> Warnings: none

 

The low humming of voices surrounding him was barely audible over the quick beat of a bass from his earbuds. The sunlight filtered through the window on his right, stretching greedily across the table, and casted shadows from the cup of coffee onto the surface of the table. White tendrils of vapour drifted from the blue and white cup. The table suddenly shook as a waitress accidently bumped into it as she brushed past to take someone’s order, and Shinichi reached out to keep his coffee from tipping over from the force of the jerk.

The waitress’ thoughts skimmed against his mind, her annoyance blasting loud and clear: ‘ _I still have three hours left on my shift. I just want to go home and take a shower after Rokuda-san groped me again. I wish I could afford to brush him off, but he always leaves such a big tip for me.’_

Across the booth from him, there were two teenagsers, he hazarded a guess that they were a year younger than him, staring into their cups with an aura of nervousness. Their bubbling awkwardness shimmered on the edges of his mind. When he focused on to them, he could hear their gushy and clumsy thoughts – clearly marking them out as new-lovers out on their first date.

_‘I hope he likes what he sees – god, I should have worn my yellow skirt instead. Is my hair a mess? Maybe I should excuse myself to the bathroom and check – but what if he leaves out of boredom? Wait, what did he just say? Just smile and giggle June, Arata-senpai told me boys likes to be appreciated for their humour.’_

The second teen’s thoughts felt more shaking as his mind raced between _‘stop talking with food in your mouth, keep it closed when you are chewing – and thank god she laughed at that joke.’_

Shinichi waved their thoughts away from his mind once his curiosity was satisfied and tried to concentrate on the novel clutched in his hand again– not that he was actually trying to read it.

A few booths away, was his target. The group that his target was with, for the most part, was ignoring his presence. Though from the occasional glances that they threw towards his direction, he knew they had spotted him. He did not bother to be inconspicuous, keeping to the shadows was a moot point when they were aware of the fact that he was following them.

Kuroba Kaito seemed as energic as he usually tried to appear whenever he was out in public– and Shinichi had the suspicion that it was simply a front for his best friend and neighbour, Nakamori Aoko. Shinichi’s mind instantly flashed back at the thought, right to the image from the other day when he had spotted Kuroba in the hallway a few days back. It had thrown him off when he had realised that Kuroba was there– he had only been present for half of the discussion about whether or not KID was responsible for the mess. Though if the thief was merely putting on a show for Shinichi that day, if somehow Kuroba had found out that Shinichi was going to be in attendance…Well, that sure was a hell of a show.

For a brief second, part of him had wondered if maybe, just maybe, he had misjudged the man’s mental state.

Hakuba seemed to avoid him in the police station ever since the meeting at the hospital where he pulled the name Kuroba Kaito out of him. And not once did the Brit looked to calm down in his presence ever since, his eyes involuntary glanced towards him from the corner of his eye whenever they passed by the walkway. He could almost feel the British detective’s unease and his brief wondering thoughts of ‘ _is it possible that Kudou-san can read my mind? Surely it cannot be true, however ‘once you eliminate the impossible, whatever remains, no matter how improbable, must be the truth.’’_

In the storm of thoughts dancing across Shinichi’s head in the café – and he clenched his teeth, quelling the desire to leave and get back into his own head space – Kuroba Kaito’s thoughts were blissfully quiet as always, like the quiet eye of the storm, and Shinichi found himself unconsciously focusing on the quietness of his mind to better concentrate on his environment.

He was too absorbed with mulling over the impossibility that was Kuroba that it took him a few moments to react to the fact that someone had slid into the seat opposite of him. Immediately, his powers snapped up into shape to better gouge the intention of his sudden companion. The only thing that he manged to confront was a familiar aura of chill calmness – and it only took him a moment longer to place the uncomforting shiver crawling up his spine following in its wake.

Shinichi straightened in his seat, and slowly raised his eyes to stare at the blond, foreign woman he had met earlier the week in Ran’s hospital room.

A smug smile curled on her lips, and she was leaning slightly against the palm of her hand that she had folded neatly in front of her as she watched him carefully. “Morning Kudou Shinichi-kun.”

He gritted his teeth at the sound of her voice, but did not let her see his unease as he carefully closed his book and placed it on the table. “I seem to be at a disadvantage once again; you know my name, but I still do not know yours.” He kept his gaze strained on hers, hoping the forceful question would finally incite a response in her mind – anything that would allow him to gouge her identity.

However, once again, her mind was calm and unwavering, hinting at nothing that she did not want revealed.

Instead, something else glittered in the woman’s eyes that he could not deduce. “Perhaps, if you finally answer my question, I’ll give you the courtesy of a name.”

Shinichi grabbed his now lukewarm cup and started to stir the tea-spoon, his eyebrows narrowed down in thoughts. He had mulled over the seemingly meaningless question that she had posted over the past few days – and it still did not make much sense to the detective. “I suppose, to ask a question, I must first admit ignorance.”

The foreigner’s lips quirked upwards at his words. “But what if it’s a rhetorical question?”

His face crumbled and he rubbed his face with the palm of his hand as he made a noncommittal noise. “There was no specific explanation of the question,” he muttered with a feeling of aggravation, and for a moment his body stiffened, with the sudden and immediate need to get out of his seat and leave the establishment at once crippling urgently under his skin.

Somehow, the woman must have read the intention in the tension of his shoulders, as she let out a chiming laughter that sent a shiver down his spine. “Sometimes, you must leave the interpretation to the recipient.” Before he could argue with her logic, she continued. “But I suppose, its adequate for now. You may call me Vermouth.”

Shinichi frowned at the name – he got a feeling that it was only a codename, for who would ever name their child after an alcoholic beverage? He decided not to push the subject, content for now for having a name attached to the face. Over their entire conversation, the chillness of her mind had not wavered for a second, and it was leaving him with a growing sense of restlessness for every moment that past that he could not get a proper read from her. He had never met anyone besides Kuroba who did not at least have a single change in their emotional state for such a long period of time

Exactly who was this woman?

“What do you want with me, Vermouth?” he spoke, keeping his tone civil – his patience had long since run out. All that he gathered for his past two interactions with her was that he did not want anything to do with this woman.

Vermouth straightened slightly in her seat, and she produced a business card from a pocket. She did not hand it to him directly, rather slid it with two fingers towards him until it rested next to his coffee cup – if she had offered him it, he was unsure whether or not he would have accepted it, and it felt that, somehow, she could tell his reluctance.

Shinichi’s eyes rested on the piece of paper. It was plain black and white with only a phone number on it, staring right back at him. The area code was one from Tokyo, not enough to tell him anything other than that – and he had a suspicious feeling it would be a dead end if he tried to investigate it for any more information on the woman. Vermouth seemed too careful for anything but. 

“I work for some interested parties that has a keen interest in special young adults with skills like yours,” she continued when she realized Shinichi had made no inclination to speak.

At her words, his eyes narrowed, as his gaze snapped up to regard her more closely. Several thoughts raced through his mind at the implications of her words – did she mean intelligence on the genius level, or detectives? Or, was she talking about his…abilities? A cold shiver spread through his chest at the thought –Shinichi had never met anyone like him, and he doubted he ever would.

He licked his lips slowly, his throat suddenly dry. “Please, elaborate.”

Only later would he realize he had completely forgotten to check up on Kuroba – everything else had vanished in his mind once the woman had appeared.

There was a wave a smugness radiating from her body language, rather than her mind, as she realized he had taken the bait, and her fingertips curled against the paper-card slightly. “I think you already know what I mean. Surely, you don’t really believe that you are the only one with such extraordinary abilities?” Her smiles grew an inch wider, and suddenly she reminded him of a predator before its prey. “Seems like a bit of a hubris assumption. But then again, aren’t you already above the humane and mortal already?”

Shinichi stood on his feet, hands clenching and suddenly his face twisted into rage. Vermouth eyes widened slightly at his reaction – realizing a moment too late that she had overestimated his ego. Suddenly, a feeling of forced calmness blanketed his mind, and it only took him a second to realize that she was somehow projecting her mental state onto him.

He instinctively pushed it away immediately, disliking the feeling of something oily and foreign messing with his thoughts, and he let out a growl. “Get out of my mind, I’m nothing like you. Other people might not perceive the world as I do – but that doesn’t mean they are anything lesser than I am.”

For the first time since they had met, Vermouth mask cracked. He caught a glimpse of the shocked surprise in her face and the curling of astonishment in her mind. For a brief moment, they stared at each other – Shinichi with bubbling rage and her with curious fascination.

And finally, finally, he made a breakthrough.

_‘No one has ever been able to reflect me away from their thoughts before,’_ her thought was as clear as day, and a shiver went down his spine at the soothing chimes of her mind. From the undercurrent of her mind, he heard the whispered thoughts of _‘I could use him – this silver bullet’_ before her mind closed off once again as the chill blanket wrapped across her mind once more.

It had been clear that she had not meant for her thoughts, even the mere whisper he managed to glimpse to be overheard by him– and he did his best, and was confident, that he gave her no clue that he had managed to do just that, however accidentally. Instead, he pushed this revelation into a mental drawer at the back of his mind to analyse it once he got home.

All the anger in his body suddenly evaporated, and he flopped back into his seat with a sleepy haze covering his mind. What was happening? He never had this happen to him before. It took him two tries before he could move his tongue as he mumbled rather unrefinedly: “Can you read minds too?”

Vermouth shook her head once, the lightness of her hair almost golden from where the sunlight filtered through the windows. “Nothing of the sorts,” she waved a hand attempting to be nonchalant. Though she should not have bothered to put on that show, as Shinich found himself unable to focus on the movement, as his eyes blurred over. He tried to move his hand. To do something, anything…maybe to grab the cup of coffee in front of him to wake up and regain his strength. Unfortunately, he only found himself too tired to do anything other than to raise his hand an inch before it fell on his lap.

His eyes dipped close once. “What did you do to me?”

Her lips curled up once more in amusement. “Oh? So you realized that? How fascinating.”

Her predatory gaze on his body was unnerving, and he lowered his eyes to ward off the pale-blue burning orbs staring at him through her eyelashes. After a moment, the tiredness that had wrapped around him like a blanket eased up, and he felt the flood of vitality fill him once more as he sat up. He blinked a few times before raking a hand through his hair with a shuddering gasp.

He had never felt anything like that before – he had felt utterly helpless in his lethargic state, and cold shiver and terror ballooned inside of him. Whoever this woman was, she was dangerous – and he knew he wanted nothing to do with her, or whatever organization she worked with.

Prey. Predator. Looked like his instinct was spot on in regards to her, though was still stupid enough not to run away when he could.

“Some sort of manipulation of emotions I assume?” his mouth deduced before he could stop himself, and Vermouth looked pleased at his words.

“Yes, something like that,” she had barely spoken before she rose in her seat, and the dark fabric of her clothing shifted a little as she did. “You know how to contact us. Please consider my proposal, Kudou Shinichi, it would be for the greater good for all of us, I promise.”

With that, she left, and regardless of the dread and trepidation pooling in him, Shinichi could not help as his eyes followed her until she was out of sight– He knew for certainty that this would not be the last time he encountered her and her ilk. Nausea suddenly bubbled in his chest and he stood up from his seat. With shaking hands, he pulled out a few notes and dropped them on the table as he started for the exit.

Just as he exited, his eyes caught sight of Kuroba Katio and his friends, laughing at the booth further back, and he finally remembered why he was here in the first place. However, he decided to give up tailing him for the day, wanting nothing more than to head home to the safety of his own space. He left the white and black business card where Vermouth had dropped it on the table.

Despite the sky almost clear and the sun shining in the distance, it was starting to drizzle– however illogical the weather seemed. Several people in the street held up their umbrellas above their heads, while others forego cover in the belief that the rain would end soon. An old, black Porsche stood nestled between two buildings, and Shinichi stopped for a moment to admire the vehicle. One did not often see old, imported cars in the streets of Tokyo – least of all such a German-made classic.

Next to the car, stood a man with silver-coloured hair that reached to his lower back, his face was mostly covered with shadows from a fedora. He had a cigarette between his lips, the drizzle was light enough that Shinichi could see a bare hint of the smoke rising from it.

A shiver of unease suddenly spiralled down Shinichi’s back, and he quickly turned away. He could have sworn the man had been oozing of aggression and suspicion, staring straight at the detective, however unlikely it may seem. Swallowing, he turned the corner, trying his best to get as much space away from the man and his car as possible.

A stray thought floated by, he could not tell where it came from and he was not even sure if he had imagined it from the unnerving confrontations he had been having.

_‘Is that it? He seems hardly worth the time and effort. Should just snag him off the street and be done with it.’_

…

Shinichi finally arrived back home, and for all his attempts to get as much distance away from the woman and Porsche and the aggressive-looking, silver haired man, he found a black and white business card on the dinner table with a familiar phone number, landing him right back to square one. With morbid curiosity, he turned it over, and noticed an inscription scribbled on the card reading:

**If you ever want to find out the truth**.

Feeling himself boiling over, he balled it up as quickly as he could and threw it in the bin, before raking a shaking hand through his hair. How had they gotten in? There were alarms on all the doors and windows, and none of them tripped. Fear was gnawing on the tip of his stomach and he hit him with full force at the realisation of how dangerous these people were. Who were they and what did they want with him exactly? Despite his fear, a part of him, the detective part, was tearing in the other direction, curious with the growing need to find out the truth.

The rational part of him was afraid – they knew where he lived and they knew about Ran. For the first time in his life, he might have bitten over more than he could chew. He would not let Ran get hurt again, not if he could do anything about it.

First of all, he needed to know who these people were who could create such unease in him – nothing had ever rattled him before like Vermouth and her associates did.

_Goddammit, what should I do?_

His stomach turned cold as a loud banging from the front door echoed through the house and made his teeth shiver in trepidation. Before he could stop himself he peered out of the kitchen window, expecting to see someone dressed purely in black –

Only to exhale in relief as he recognized his visitor. Running a hand through his hair, he hesitated for a moment, wondering if he should open the door or not – fully knowing exactly who was on his doorsteps. They had spoken very little the past few weeks, both their guilt too overwhelming to bear when the one person who bridged their friendship was hospitalized.

He decided to open the door, if only for the company of knowing someone missed Ran just as much as he did.

“What do you want, Sonoko?” he greeted the girl. She was wearing a thick, purple coat that reached her knees, and a pair of stiletto shoes that seemed precarious to walk with on the slippery eyes. Her eyes seemed darker than usual, and rather from wearing too much make-up, it was from the exhausted bags around her eyes.

She brushed past him with an unimpressed huffing, a little more shaking on her legs than usual. Her usual bubbling aura that followed her was now pierced with dark-grey emotions filled with sorrow and remorse.

“As inviting as ever, aren’t you, Kudou-kun.”

He crossed his arms as a headache started to pulsate between his eyebrows. He was too tired to deal with the heiress antics: the day had already been long as it was, and he forced his thoughts from diving into her mind – not having any intention of reading her.

“I’d invite you for tea, but I’m too tired right now.”

Sonoko’s sour expression crumbled a little at the clear exhaustion in his voice, and she stopped to better peer at him with worry flickering in her eyes. “You’ve been working too much lately, haven’t you? I’m sure Ran would disapprove.”

Clenching his jaw, he looked away from her. He did not need anyone else to tell him what he already knew. “I’m doing this for Ran.”

Despite his effort to keep from reading Sonoko, he could feel her sympathy wavering thickly across the room. “It wasn’t you fault –“ she started, her voice both empty and filled with pain.

“Neither is it yours.”

This time, she looked away from him, both knew Ran would not approve of their collective guilt for something which had not been in their powers to predict. However, her kindness was the exact reason for their remorse.

A whispered name drifted across his mind as Sonoko thought about _Kaitou KID._ He shook his head sharply at the unsaid request, and he turned around to march into the kitchen. With a surprised welp, the heiress followed in his footsteps. He shoved a drawer open harsher than intended as the content rattled. He fished up a piece of paper and scribbled something quickly across it. Before folding it as he turned towards Sonoko.

He held it in her direction without saying a word.

Sonoko froze in her tracks as her gaze went from examining the piece of paper and to gouge his expression several times. “What is that?” she licked her lips slowly, and he could sense her hesitation over the whole affair.

“Its what you have been hounding me for years to give you.”

Her eyes widened in surprise at his words and her mouth popped open. Several emotions wavered across her mind, temptation, hope and sadness spiralled around each other. ’ _I knew he’d be able to find him –‘_

The clusters of emotions suddenly stilled as her hand froze where she had a second earlier been reaching for the piece of paper for the one thing she had wanted for as long as she remembered – the true identity of _Kaitou KID._ Not to catch the thief, but just to be the only one who knew the enigma behind the moonlight magician – or so Shinichi believed from what he had read in her mind countless of times before.

Her sudden hesitation confused him – surely she wanted to catch him just as much as he did for what the thief had done? He was responsible for Ran’s injuries, and for her own. Thankfully, Sonoko had not broken anything and gotten out relatively unscathed. A fact which hurt the heiress more than anyone knew. The knowledge that she was just fine despite having been standing less than half a meter away from Ran.

Shinichi suddenly remembered again why he did not want to be in Sonoko’s presence for long these days, despite them both hurting. He could not handle the weight of her remorse on top of his. He clenched his jaw, but said nothing else as the heiress dealt with her inner turmoil.

After a long moment, her hand suddenly dropped and she let her head tilt forwards as strands of hair shifted into her face and obscured her eyes. “Tell me, how is he?”

“Why don’t you check yourself,” he replied, feeling his voice thicken with confusion when she only shook her head in response. With a suffering exhale, he answered her question. “He’s alive.”

Sonoko’s lips quirked upwards in what looked more to be a grimace than a smile, “I’m glad,” she mumbled as she turned to leave.

“Don’t you want to know who he is?” he called after her, feeling befuddlement bubbling in his chest over the fact for once he could not predict her actions. He thought he had understood who Sonoko was as a person from the first time they had met as kids. Why would she decline the answer to a mystery she had ached to unravel? He tried to read her mind, however the calmness that had settled across it told him nothing.

“I don’t need to.”

Shinichi could do nothing more than watch her leave as he let his arm drop. He wanted to ask her if she wanted revenge, or if she wanted to do anything but to stand helplessly next to Ran as she slumbered and withered away. However, right there and then he could not find himself to open his mouth to form the question.

Even with all his knowledge and understanding of the human psychology, he was still occasionally surprised at their actions.

…

The jerk that came from the opening of the car door effectively stirred Kudou Shinichi from the edge of sleep – he had been dipping his eyelids in exhaustion moments earlier. The warmth heat from the radiator and the gentle tapping of rain against the window had not assisted in his attempt to stay awake. However, now that he was suddenly aware of his surroundings, he sat up with his heart hammering against his ribcage as adrenaline was pumped into his bloodstream. A hand inched automatically down to his waist where he had hidden a water-gun that was a replica of the most common police-issued-gun. He had started to wear it as a precaution. He had met too many suspicious characters in a short amount of time, and he did not feel safe. If someone believed he was carrying a gun, they might hesitate long enough to give him a few precious seconds to plan his fight or flight.

He turned his head towards the door, fully expecting to see Vermouth grinning at him with that cold, reptile smile.

“Pleasant morning we have,” Kuroba Kaito said with an amicable expression as he leaned casually against the car door. ''You have to love these mild winter days that are turning these streets into mushy death-traps.''

Shinichi's heart calmed marginally at the sight of the magician. He aborted reaching for his weapon, and rested the palm on his thigh. He levelled the intruder with a look and a raised eyebrow. ''That almost sound like a threat, Kuroba.''

The thief's smile dropped for a second, and his bangs fluttered slightly as a gust of wind swirled by. He wore an orange and green scarf with a few holes, clearly hand-made - presumably by Nakamori Aoko, Shinichi thought - and a thick winter coat that somehow hugged his chest surprisingly attractively, rather than turning his whole upper body into an undistinguishable blob.

''You don't own a shred of humour, do you?'' Kuroba snorted with a roll of his eyes. ''I mean, the evidence supporting that fact is rather overwhelming.''

The detective thinned his lips, unsure about the intruder's intention. He felt foolish, somehow for not paying attention to his surroundings when he should be – he had not even noticed Kuroba Kaito leaving his house nor him approaching his vehicle. He blamed this exhaustion on the sleepless night and restlessness from the feeling of being watched after what happened with Vermouth– and for a moment he wondered if Kuroba felt just as restive as he.

He shook the thought away a moment later - silently hoping he was only imagining things and that he was being paranoid over Vermouth and her companions' intentions.

''What do you want, Kuroba,'' he asked instead, keeping his face neutral and eyes sharp as he studied his adversary, trying and failing yet again, to read any sign of emotions or thoughts from the magician’s mind.

 Kuroba dipped his eyes in order to peer at the detective through his eyelashes. All humour drained from his face and Shinichi only just caught the small movement as the thief clenched his hand.

''Yesterday,'' he licked his lips slowly hesitantly, as though to ponder how to continue. ''You left rather abruptly, looking upset about something. That woman - '' he hesitated again, and the levelled look was turned on him. Shinichi was sure Kuroba had meant to aske 'who is she'. ''Just wondered if you were alright,'' Kuroba continued simply instead.

The detective almost blinked in surprise at the question, and before he could stop himself, he blurted out in disbelief. ''Why do you even care?''

The magician seemed to have frozen to the spot as they eyed each other carefully. Silence settled between them. Only the soft tones of Yoko Okino's latest album hummed from the radio and the pitter-patter from the rain filled the space.

Shinichi waited in confusion - surely Kuroba Kaito, the man he had been stalking and pestering for weeks, could not be feeling an inkling of concern for him? He had labelled the thief a narcissistic sociopath from the get-go, after all.

No, it had to be a trick, Shinichi’s mind supplied him, it was the only logical conclusion. Yet, the evidence in front of him spoke the contrary.

The thief genuinely looked surprised at his own words - perhaps he had not considered his actions before approaching.

''Well,'' Kuroba finally broke the silence. His lips quirked upwards as his voice came out velvet soft: ''You are less of a bastard than Hakuba.''

''Not much of an achievement, I'd say,'' Shinichi had meant for his words to voice his disbelief. Instead Kuroba laughed – a genuine one at that. The rich noise sent a shiver down the detective's spine - it was the first time he had heard the magician laugh close up, and subconsciously he decided it was something that suited the teen. A grin on his lips and a laughter ready to burst like doves under a magic show.

''Point taken, detective,'' he grinned at him with impudence. Before Shinichi could react, he had climbed into the car and closed the door after him. ''Seeing as we are going in the same direction, why don't I just hitch a ride with you.''

All protest died on Shinichi's lips at the magician's words even if the glitter of amusement in Kuroba's eyes almost made him want refuse on principle. Exactly what was the thief playing at? Acting all amicably towards him? Shinichi eyed him silently, before sighing in defeat - he did not think Kuroba would leave even if he did object to how he had planted himself so comfortably in is car.

He did not verbally agree, merely turning the key and the car started to hum underneath his fingertips in response.

Despite the light-hearted interaction earlier, the atmosphere turned stifling, almost as though it was pulsating with tension as they sat in complete silence, and Shinichi was expecting it to last for the duration of the ride – it was not far to Kuroba’s school, only as few short blocks away. He took the chance to study Kuroba closely from the corner of his eye. He did not believe they had been this physically close before. They were always behind a glass window or huge wade of space between them or wearing indifferent masks. But somehow, for the first time, they seemed to have less animosity between them – perhaps they were simply too tired to cling to the strong emotions after so much that had happened between them.

The detective could clearly see the exhaustion in his car-companion’s whole-body language, no matter how he tried to hide it. His uniform jacket was suddenly started to droop on the left: clearly indicated it that it had only recently turned too large for the wearer, when it had once fitted him perfectly. Probably as a result of what Shinichi assumed was an involuntarily crash diet. His eyes looked a little more protruding from where he had tried to hide the evidence of dark circles with make-up, and a furrow had started to stretch across his brows almost as a permanent marker had been drawn on his face.

Shinichi could relate to the image, though he had not spent much time loitering in front of a mirror, he was sure his own reflection would portray some of the same signs that Kuroba was exhibiting. He was suddenly cut short from his musings when Kuroba suddenly moved. The detective’s whole body tensed, and his stomach churned in the flight or fight instinct that was thrummed through him at the unexpected movement.

When the thief did nothing more sinister than to turn off the radio, Shinichi let himself relax slightly. His fingers were still curled tightly around the steering wheel, and he wondered why exactly he had thought it was a good idea to not throw Kuroba out of the car immediately – why was he fraternizing with the enemy? He could not afford to let his guard down, he told himself sternly, surely the thief had a hidden agenda?

That must be it, Shinichi decided a moment later, whether it was to befriend the detective – like what Kuroba had did with Hakuba Saguru, or some other sinister reason, like getting back on him for the stalking the past few weeks.

With an acrid taste in his mouth, Shinichi finally broke the silence, his musing only having lasted for a few, brief second as he decided on his next step. “Not a fan of Yoko Okino?”

Kuroba glanced in his direction, before shaking his head slightly. The movement made his bangs flutter across his eyes. Shinichi had never realized how blue they were before– the dark shadow from the bangs made his eyes looked almost purple as the light reflected from the streets outside.

“No, never been a fan. Her lyrics never really appealed to me,” he replied lightly, after a moment.

“That’s surprising,” the detective spoke with a hint of amusement. “I know a lot of fans who would frown at you for not singing her praises.” His thoughts went to Mouri Kogorou for a brief second.

The chortled noise he received in reply, indicated how much Kuroba was aware of the fact his opinions was not always appreciated in certain circles. Shinichi could empathise when he actually did not care for her music himself either.

“Liking music. It’s subjective. Isn’t that the whole point of art to begin with?” There was a hint of teasing in Kuroba’s voice, and Shinichi was sure he would see the thief’s eyes glittering defiantly if he had shifted his focus from the road – waiting for Shinichi to challenge him on the point.

And that was what Shinichi delivered, it was not in him to back down from a challenge. He let an eyebrow twitch upwards as he said, “Depends on your point of view. One could arguably say we need a standard judgement of taste to satisfy both the subjective and the objective aesthetics of art –“

He did not get further before Kuroba barked out a laughter, his voice filled with enough amusement that almost made Shinichi feel mocked. “Why am I even surprised to hear this argument from the likes of you.”

Shinichi tried not to purse his lips, his stomach suddenly dropping at the scorn that was sent his way, he had, in a way, asked for it. “What do you mean, ‘the likes of me’? I’m simply holding a position to assert a – “

“A standard of taste, I know,” the magician cut him off again, this time the detective turned in his direction as they came to a red light, and was surprised to see amusement glittering in his eyes, as well as the curling of his lips that was an aborted attempt not to portray his abhorrence. There was a softness around his mouth, in a clear indication that the man was struggling with what emotions to feel.

Shinichi’s heart fluttered in his chest in surprise, as it had been the most emotions he had seen expressed in Kuroba’s face since they had met – he had always hidden behind a pokerface, and the sudden openness made his mouth dry a little.

“I’m surprised you of all people have such a subjective view on this,” he almost groused out, trying not to sound as though he was defending himself. “Being an art thief and all.”

Only a moment later, did he realize it had been the wrong thing to say – considering he had in the past tried to twist out a confession. This time, however, it had not been his intention, simply spoken out from place of curiosity to understand exactly how he ticked. He regretted it now, as Kuroba’s expression fell and became guarded where it had been open a moment later.

He almost expected the thief to reply ‘ _isn’t this proof against me being Kaitou KID?’_ as an automatic defence. When he did not, however, a feeling of astonished irritation spread across the detective’s chest as he realized, for once, he was genuinely frustrated by the fact that he was not being supplied with all answers he needed from merely listening to people’s thoughts. Kuroba Kaito was a silent puzzle, and having to get to know someone by holding an actual conversation was a such new dizzying experience.

Was this how everyone else felt? This rush of excitement of learning something by socializing, rather than his usual expectations of knowing every aspect of a person before the first uttered syllable? A part of him should be worried at the new development. And as he remembered again exactly who he was sitting adjacent to, his excitement at this new revelation bubbled down and ceased to exist. The fact of the matter was, he could not read Kuroba’s thoughts. For all he knew, there were sinister thoughts shimmering in his mind and out of grasp to Shinichi.

How could he possibly trust someone he could not read or understand? The magician was a dangerous puzzle, and he bit cheek as he forced his previous thoughts away. No matter the fraction of interest he had felt towards his companion, he had to remember the most important part. He was sitting here, conversing with the culprit responsible for Ran’s current absence. That she did not have the opportunity to chid him for his faux pas and eating habits and everything else in between.

His throat hitched slightly as he imagined Ran sitting across him, with a blinding smile and hair shinning almost auburn as the morning sun filtering through the windows. He forced his gaze away from Kuroba and back to the streets, a part of him feeling as though he was betraying his childhood friend for having a brief moment of amusement with Kuroba, where he had forgotten about her – was his morality so out of skew that he had so easily forgotten the bigger picture?

Even if it had only been something as innocent as simple as discussing David Hume’s _Standard of Taste_ , in which the philosopher established the criteria of an elite group of true critics or judges to determine what was art and beauty with the enemy.

“That’s a sad expression,” Kuroba suddenly spoke, his voice soft with a hint of caution, knowing the land mines that exist between them.

Shinichi did not reply, nor did he know what Kuroba would have said, as the iconic sight of the high school came into view and he stopped the car by the sidewalk adjacent to the entrance.

His companion kept staring at him with heavy eyes, however, despite the fact that they had clearly arrived at their destination. With a clenched jaw, Shinichi turned to meet Kuroba’s gaze. He could not read the thief’s expression, but something dark and contemplating was lurking behind his eyes. They sat unmoving, in silence for a moment, before Kuroba’s eyes suddenly smoothed out all traces of the darkness as it disappeared behind the light-hearted mask he wore in any company other than his.

“Thanks for the ride,” Kuroba opened the door and climbed out. Before he closed it, he leaned over with a quirk of his lips that was filled with a promise. “I’ll see you later.”

The jarring slam of the door echoed in Shinichi’s ears, and he felt a foreshadowing feeling fill his chest as he followed the thief’s trek into the school compound with a heavy gaze. It was barely eight in the morning, but he already felt so exhausted. More questions than answers had been made appearance so far, and he felt even more out of depth than ever before.

First the enigma that was Kuroba Kaito, and then whatever furtive plans Vermouth and her organization were plotting.

There was a shake in his hands as he combed through his hair, which he did his best to ignore as he restarted the engine. Tired thoughts started shimmering across his skin as students and professors alike passed his car to the school, and he pushed them away, entirely too out of energy to have any desire to read them individually even as the increasing humming whispered in his mind.

For a second, a jolt shot through him and even made his toes tingle. He had suddenly realized that in Kuroba’s presence, he had not even noticed their existence. For the first time, Shinichi had heard nothing but the calm quietness of the other teen’s presence.

He did not get to mull over the thought for long as there was a soft knock on his window. Almost baffled, he turned to watch Kaito gaze him from the outside. He hesitated only for a moment before rolling down the window with a puzzled expression.

“Detective,” he started, dark eyes glittered with an emotion that seemed more fitting on Kaitou KID’s facial features then the Kuroba Kaito persona he had been seeing, but far more personal and genuine. “I might be many things, but I’m never a critic.”

The flashing of a grin that was daring Shinichi to disagree, made him sit back in surprise, for once during their acquaintance, he was loss of words. As Kaito turned back again to leave, Shinichi could no longer force down the bubbling amusement in his chest as he laughed.

…

 


End file.
